


Sting a Little

by eena



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Crossover, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-28
Updated: 2006-03-28
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:17:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eena/pseuds/eena
Summary: It’s been three years since Willow accidentally pulled her vampire self out of another dimension, and she’s about to learn that sending pieces of yourself across the dimensional barrier can have horrific results. After all, punching through the fabric of reality isn‘t easy on anyone. So hold onto your hats kiddies, this might sting a little . . .





	1. Prologue:

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

St. Louis is a large city that is always bustling with life. By day, there are scores of people on the street, clogging up the roads in their cars or flooding the sidewalks as they negotiated their way around town. By night, there were fewer people on the sidewalks and not so many on the roads, but the lights shone at night and you could tell that the bars, clubs, restaurants, and all other such places were probably full of people going about their lives, taking the few hours of freedom that the night afforded them and doing something they found pleasant. For some people that meant a night out with their friends or family at a nice restaurant. To others that meant filing into the dimly bars and clubs that filled the Blood District and actively searching for a good time. It was simple, it was normal, and it was relatively harmless, depending on what part of town you were frequenting.

 

Tammy Reynolds felt that she was a whole lot more safer than most people on this Friday night. For one thing, she was as far away from the Blood District as she could get and seated in a quaint little coffeehouse not far from her home. Secondly, she was with her friends in a nice public space that was filled with tons of decent looking folk. And thirdly, she had her gun on her. So even if something should arise that could spoil her night, Tammy still felt like she was relatively safe where she was.

 

That was until the clock struck eleven and everything went to Hell.

 

It was strange. One moment she had been talking amicably with her friends, and the next she was screaming in agony because of the sudden pain she felt in her head. For those brief seconds that she lay on the floor of the coffeehouse, she honestly felt like she was going to die. She thought her brain might explode and kill her right then and there, and in the pure agony of the moment, she thought that dying seemed like a much better option than her current condition.

 

And then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. She looked up from the coffeehouse floor to find a crowd had gathered around her and her friends. Tammy felt sheepish, until she realized that she was not the only one people were milling around. At least three other people were being pulled to their feet, the fear on their faces mirroring her own. She heard someone say something about phoning for an ambulance, but she interrupted and said it might be better if someone phoned the police.

 

Cradling her pounding head in her right hand, Tammy dared a look outside. She wasn’t surprised to find that the outside world had gone to Hell as well. The wind was blowing fiercely, bending the few trees lining the street almost in half. There was a frighteningly large amount of lightning outside, accentuated every so often by a thunderous boom. Her legs were shaking and she sank into a chair quickly. She wasn’t one to get scared by a simple thunderstorm, and yet here she was, shaking like a leaf.

 

Perhaps her fear was connected to the fact that this was not a simple thunderstorm. No, it was not simple in the least. For one thing, while the lightning and thunder raged on outside, Tammy looked up at the sky to see the cloudless night that had greeted her as she left her home at nine. There was not one cloud to be seen. There was only the crescent moon, hanging calmly in the turbulent night sky. The moon did not waver, not even once while the rest of the world seemed to fall apart in those precious few minutes after eleven.

 

Ten minutes past, and the chaos receded as quickly as it came. By now the police had arrived and Tammy had to gather her nerves before she approached her colleagues. With shaking fingers, she reached inside her jacket and pulled out her badge. She walked up to the nearest patrolman, holding her badge out for him to see.

 

“Detective Tammy Reynolds of the RPIT unit,” she introduced herself, very pleased with the fact that her voice was not shaking like the rest of her. “You need to get on your radio and call for St. Storr of the RPIT. We have a supernatural phenomena here.”

 

“But what is it?” the patrolman asked as he grabbed his radio to do just as she commanded. Tammy nervously folded up her badge and stuck in back in her jacket. She licked her dry lips and gazed out into the eerily calm night, a numbness in her bones that she just couldn’t shake.

 

“I don’t know,” she finally replied. The patrolman gave her a strange look, but she ignored him. The call to Dolph had been placed, and soon she’d have sufficient backup. But backup for what, she didn’t quite know.

 

Tammy made her way to the door, uncertain if she really wanted to go outside, but her feet kept moving anyway. There was something drawing her to the outside. She stepped out into the night, noting how strangely calm things were. In light of the Hell that had been brewing out here just moments before, the calm should have been a welcome change. But there was something about the dead of the night that was starting to creep her out.

 

She looked up at the crescent moon, trying to swallow her fear. The sky was dark, but the moon was so bright it could have lit up the entire street on its own. She stared at it, blinking when the view seemed to waver. Tammy rubbed her eyes and looked back up at the moon, and saw that all was normal. Perhaps she had imagined the whole thing. She shook her head and started to make her way to the nearest patrol car.

 

She was three steps away from the car when something fell out of the sky and landed on the hood.

 

Tammy screamed in shock as pieces of glass and metal went flying through the air. Whatever had hit the car had hit it hard and fast. Several shouts and screams accompanied Tammy’s and several of the officers who had been inside came rushing out. Tammy was shaking badly as she turned to get a better look at what had made impact with the car.

 

“Holy shit!”

 

After a few seconds of staring, Tammy shook off her surprise and started barking orders. The officers in her immediate vicinity stood still in shock, and she had to shout at them to get them moving.

 

“Somebody call for an ambulance!” she commanded them. She forced herself to move the extra few steps to the car. She looked down at the bleeding and broken body that had been fallen out of the sky. Tammy swallowed her panic and began to look for signs of life. She found a pulse, a weak one, but still enough to indicate that the redheaded girl before her was alive.

 

“What is it?” a frightened officer asked her.

 

“’It’ isn’t an it,” Tammy snapped at the man. “It’s a girl, and she’s alive, so get that ambulance here now!”

 

He jumped quickly to do as she told him. The ambulance arrived not five minutes later, St. Storr and Det. Zerbrowski following mere minutes after. Tammy never felt so relieved to see her commander.

 

“What’s going on here, Reynolds?” he asked her immediately. Tammy rubbed her face tiredly and began to tell her boss about the strange girl who had fallen out of the clear night sky.

 

~*~

 

The mystery of young “Skye” was never really solved. Other than the very fluffy pink clothes she was wearing when Tammy first saw her, the girl had nothing on her that could indicate her name or where she came from. There were theories about her, most of which turned out to be untrue. Many people believed that the fall should have killed her, given the nature of the impact, and the fact that she survived led many people to believe that she was a shifter of some sort. But her healing process was too slow for a lycanthrope. Some suggested that she was a witch, in hopes of explaining the chaotic phenomena that had preceded her arrival. However, there was never any way of proving that.

 

The origin of her fall was also still a mystery. Several of the others on the scene swore to the fact that she fell out of the sky, which Det. Reynolds supported wholeheartedly. The girl didn’t fall off a building or a plane, like sometimes suggested. One second the sky had been clear, and the next second it spat her out onto that patrol car.

 

To make matters worse, the girl dubbed “Skye Storm” by the media was in no condition to provide any answers about her identity or how she came to be here in St. Louis. The doctors had done everything they could do for her, but young Skye could not be waken. She was officially diagnosed as suffering from a comatose state that had no end in sight. Privately, her doctors expressed sincere doubt to the police that she would ever recover. Her injuries, while bad, were not severe enough to warrant a coma. Sure she had fallen out of the sky, but she had sustained no head trauma. Sure both arms were broken, nearly all ribs were cracked, and her left leg was fractured, but what did people expect? She had fallen out of the sky and hit a car at an incredible speed. The doctors suggested that she had been in this state long before she arrived in St. Louis. But that explanation didn’t fly with the police. After all, if she had been comatose before, who would have bothered to dress her up and then drop her from wherever the hell she had been dropped?

 

No, there was another reason for this girl’s presence and her condition. The only problem was that no one knew what that reason was. Skye was all over the news from the moment of her arrival. There were swarms of press situated outside of the hospital where she was being treated, and for almost nine months she was the most talked about news topic in North America. Hordes of people came to the RPIT, demanding to have a look at her, and sometimes to even take custody of her. Psychics of all kinds descended upon St. Louis to examine the girl, though only a few ever made it to her bedside. St. Storr was being extra careful with this girl, and nobody without sufficient credentials was allowed at her bedside.

 

The top psychics in the country were allowed in to visit Skye, and quite a few from abroad as well. And all of them were useless in finding an answer to the conundrum that was Skye. None of them could get a fix on her mind, not because of her comatose state, but because they claimed that her consciousness wasn’t even there. It was a strange claim to make, one that the RPIT might have dismissed if it weren’t repeated so many times. The girl’s body was here, kept alive by the autonomic functions of her brain, but her consciousness, spirit, soul, essence-whatever you wanted to call it-it simply wasn’t here.

 

Of course, while intriguing, none of this could help the police in any way. Matters concerning Skye were made more difficult by the sheer number of people who wanted to sue the state for custody of the girl. There were hordes of parents, from the US, Canada, and all over Europe, who had lost redheaded daughters at a young age and were now convinced that Skye was theirs. It was difficult for the RPIT to keep up with the petitions for paternity tests, all of which came out negative. It took six months to clear up the mess with families searching for their missing daughters, and despite the heavy bills that were racked up due to the numerous DNA tests conducted, the secret of Skye’s true identity was no closer to being revealed. A general search for her fingerprints on all known police databases had revealed nothing, neither had the missing reports from across the country. Indeed, it seems like the girl simply didn’t exist, or worse, no one knew she existed and therefore no one knew that she was missing.

 

The mystery surrounding Skye garnered so much attention from the public that the media circus revolving around her refused to die out immediately. It was fuelled by the numerous “special-interest” groups that had come to claim Skye as their own. The worst by far was the Druid Underground, a group of Celtic-fanatics who claimed that Skye was one of their goddesses come to flesh. According to their sacred texts, which no one else was ever allowed to see, she was sent to Earth in order to help give birth to a race of superhuman Druid warriors who would drive the dark creatures and vampires back into the shadows where the DU believed they belonged. Their case never made it to the courts, but they put on a good show, holding “religious” ceremonies outside the hospital and always dressed in full Druid garb.

 

But nothing came of it. The months went by, and the mystery of Skye was no closer to being solved. Slowly, one by one, the media vans packed up and rolled away from Skye’s hospital. Her name soon faded from the newspaper, and the nightly news reports began to leave her out of their programs. The custodial claims soon petered out as well, and no one step forth to claim the strange redheaded girl. The DU stuck it out the longest, but even they gave up after a while. Skye’s file went from being of high priority within the RPIT to being filed under “unsolved”. Three years after she fell out of the night sky, young Skye Storm of St. Louis ceased to weigh even minimally on the minds of the public. It was a shame really. If they had stuck it out a little bit longer, they would have gotten all the answers they wanted.

 

For it was on June 16, 2001 that Skye woke up and found herself in a world to which she did not belong.


	2. Chapter 1  The Skye is Falling...

“Willow? Time to get up.”

 

Willow frowned, stretching out her legs and running them along the ground to stop her swing from moving. She turned around, her tiny ten-year-old hand going up to brush some of her hair out of her eyes. Her eyes searched the empty playground to find the person who had just spoken to her. She found him standing just off to her left, idling by the slide.

 

A timid grin split her face and Willow leapt off her swing and ran to greet her friend. The boy with the dark hair watched her come with a sad smile on his face. She felt worried at that. For as long as she had known him, which was since she was four, he had always had this mischievous look on his face. To see him so sad right now, it scared her a little.

 

“What’s wrong, Jesse?” she asked. The ten-year-old boy with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes looked at her with true sadness on his face.

 

“It’s time for you to go,” he told her. Willow wrinkled up her face in confusion. Where would she go? She was supposed to go to Jesse’s house today, and his mom hadn’t picked them up from the school playground yet. Willow wasn’t allowed to leave the school without an adult she knew, so she wasn’t sure where Jesse thought she had to go.

 

“Is your mom here now?” she asked quietly, though she knew that wasn’t the case. Jesse’s mom always drove up to the curb first, and from her spot on the swings, Willow would have seen her arrive.

 

“No Willow, she’s not here,” he said softly. “She’s not coming. No one is.”

 

Willow frowned and stepped closer to her friend. “Jesse?”

 

“It’s time to go,” he said, his face stern. “Time to wake up.”

 

“I am awake,” she protested.

 

“Yeah right,” he scoffed. Jesse looked angrily down at his feet as he kicked mindlessly at some rocks. “You know the truth, even if you don’t want to admit it. It’s been too fun here, too safe. If I had a choice, I’d keep you here with me. But it doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Jesse?” Willow began anxiously. “When’s your mom coming? I think that you might need to see a doct-”

 

“She’s not coming!” Jesse shouted at her. He pushed his way past her and Willow turned her head to watch him go. Jesse kept his back to her as he walked away. She wasn’t surprised to find him growing in stature with each step he took. When he finally turned around again, the school playground had faded away and Jesse now stood fifteen-years-old in the middle of a deserted Bronze. He gave her a harsh look. “Time to wake up Willow.”

 

Willow stepped forward, her ten-year-old body stretching and growing until she was as she had been at fifteen. “I don’t think that I know what you’re talking about.”

 

“You don’t, huh?” Jesse shook his head, his anger obviously mounting by the moment. “Well then, I suppose I have to remind you, huh?”

 

Willow’s stomach started churning violently. “You don’t have to,” she replied weakly. “We could just forget it and go over to my house. We could have a ‘Die Hard’ marathon.”

 

“You hate ‘Die Hard’,” he reminded her.

 

“But you love it,” she said desperately. “And we haven’t watched all three movies in so long. Why don’t we go over there now and-”

 

“Willow,” he interjected. But she couldn’t stop just yet. She didn’t want to.

 

“Come on, Jesse,” she pleaded with him, grasping his right hand and tugging gently. “We can go right now and-”

 

“Willow, it’s time to get up,” he repeated gently.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she shouted in a sudden burst of anger.

 

“Yeah, you do,” he said quietly. Jesse smiled at his friend, a sympathetic look to his eyes. “You remember why, even if you don’t want to admit it. You remember everything, you remember this.”

 

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and Willow watched as the Bronze faded from view. She watched as the scene reformed to show a classroom at the high school. Everyone was there, Xander, Buffy, Giles, Angel, and her-and the other her.

 

“Remember now?” he asked. Willow didn’t answer, she just watched as she cast the spell that would send her vampire self back to her own world.

 

“So?” she said after a few minutes.

 

“Think about it Willow, you sent a lot more than Vamp Willow away,” Jesse prodded. “Think Wills, what else did you send away that day?”

 

“Nothing,” she insisted angrily.

 

“Liar,” was all he had to say.

 

“Listen Jesse, this is getting old!” she snapped. “This doesn’t explain anything! We’re just going around in circles, and I’m getting real tired of it! Now, do you want to go and watch movies or-”

 

“God Willow, just stop it already!” Jesse shouted at her. “Enough is enough! I can’t hold your hand for the rest of eternity. Look at this scene! Look at it! You know as well as I do that you sent something more than HER away.”

 

“I didn’t do-”

 

“You sent yourself away,” Jesse interrupted harshly, turning on her angrily and jabbing her shoulder with a finger. “You saw her, saw how strong and how dark she could be, and you liked it. You liked that she wasn’t weak, and you liked that people feared her. I’m not saying that you wanted to be a vampire, but we both know that you were tired of being computer-girl Willow, walked over by everyone and anyone.”

 

“Yeah well, being a doormat isn’t as fun as I thought it would be,” she muttered unhappily.

 

“You wanted that weak part gone,” Jesse continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You wanted that Willow from the old days gone. You wanted to be the new Willow, all magic and powerful-and not that girl you used to be at all. So when you sent your evil self away, you sent my Willow away as well.”

 

“I didn’t mean to do anything like that,” she insisted stubbornly.

 

“Yeah, but spells are funny things,” he shrugged. “You thought about it, at a time when you shouldn’t have been thinking of anything other than your spell. You know how much focus you have to have to cast a spell properly, and you didn’t have it this time. And look at what you did. You left it incomplete, and for the past three years, you‘ve been here with me. And now it‘s time for you to wake up.”

 

“Don’t want to,” Willow whined, regressing back to her child form. “I want to go back to the playground and-”

 

“What you want doesn’t count anymore,” Jesse frowned at her. “And don’t give me that wounded child act. Grow up, Willow. Time to act your age.”

 

“Why are you being so mean?” she cried in frustration. “You were never this mean when . . .”

 

“When I was alive,” he finished for her when she trailed off. “But I’m not alive anymore. But you are Willow, and you have to start acting like it. You can’t stay here, reliving all the happy memories you want. You’re still alive, and you have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

 

“But why now? Why can’t I stay here anymore?” She was whining and she knew it, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to go. It was nice here, it was safe. There were no monsters, no magic, no Hellmouth, and no pain. It was just her, Jesse, and all those times in their past that she had been happy and content.

 

“Partly because of you again,” he replied. He moved to stand beside her, slinging his arm around her shoulders as the scene before them changed once more. She saw the tower, saw the group of people, saw the demons, and knew that she didn’t really want to know what was going on. And yet, somehow, she did know.

 

“Takes a lot of power to take on a Hell goddess, even in the slightest way,” Jesse murmured into her ear. “And to tell you the truth, you’re scaring me a bit by now. But on the other hand, the whole girlfriend thing takes me to a strange happy place.”

 

“Jesse,” she groaned. “That’s not even me. Well, not really, because I’ve been here the entire time.”

 

“I know, but it’s still you, sort of,” Jesse shrugged. “But I don’t think this is something we should get into right now. What I want you to do is look to the tower and see what’s going on there.”

 

“Do I have to?” she asked pitifully. He just took her by the chin and forced her head up so that she had to look. What she saw was Hell on Earth. A huge portal swirled above next to the tower and huge, hideous beasts started to spill out of it. Willow swallowed a lump into her throat and leaned in closer to Jesse.

 

“What is it?” she whispered to him.

 

“You know what it is,” he whispered back to her. “You felt that energy before, when you sent her back. It’s the dimensional barrier, and it’s giving way.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means everything bleeds into one, and the world as everyone knows it ends,” Jesse explained, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. “At least, that’s what it would mean, if it weren’t for Buffy.”

 

“Jesse?” Willow was really scared by now. “What’s going to happen to Buffy?”

 

“Something unavoidable,” he replied. “In about five minutes, that beautiful woman is going to take a flying leap off that tower. She’s going to hit the middle of that portal, and it will immediately start reacting to her blood. Once that reaction starts, everything goes back to where it belongs. Everything, not one thing will be left where it doesn’t belong. And even all those things that were lingering out-of-bounds before this will go to where they belong.”

 

“Me,” she said faintly.

 

“You,” he confirmed. “Like I’ve been saying, time to wake up and deal with what you did.”

 

“But I didn’t mean to do it,” she whispered painfully.

 

“I know you didn’t, but it still happened,” Jesse sighed. “To quote a great man, ‘with great power comes great responsibility’. And when you sent Her away, you weren’t going about it in a very responsible manner.”

 

“My life as I’ve known it, pre and post Buffy, is about to became steadier stranger and most likely more dangerous, and you’re quoting Spiderman. Some things never change.”

 

“Ain’t that the truth,” he turned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be around to provide some helpful hints, but I can’t always be there. You’re gonna have to learn how to float on your own. Think you can do that?”

 

“No,” she muttered stubbornly. Jesse just laughed at her. They were both silent for a second, watching as Buffy took her leave of the tower, just like Jesse said she would. Willow saw the portal shift as Buffy hit it, and felt something inside of her change at the same time. She gasped and clutched at her stomach. The image of the tower faded away and soon there was only her and Jesse, but she could even feel him fading away as the seconds ticked by. He smiled at her again, giving her once last hug before he let her go.

 

“Well, looks like you’ll have to learn. See you around Wills.”

 

Willow squeezed her eyes shut and felt herself slip away.

 

~*~

 

It was the beeping that woke her up.

 

Willow groaned and turned her head away from the noise. She tried to move her arms and suddenly became aware of the fact that they were being weighed down by something. She coughed and then slowly opened her eyes. The hazy sight of a small white room greeted her and that consisted of one tiny television, one window, and a bathroom off to the side. Willow squinted her eyes until her vision came clearer and then turned her attention to her attention to her arms.

 

She found several bandages and a needle in her left arm. Her right hand had some sort of device clamped onto its index finger, and there was a trail of wires that lead Willow to find the machine that had been the source of the beeping noises.

 

A hospital room. She was in a hospital room, but she wasn’t sure why she was in a hospital room. Slowly she pushed herself into a sitting position and took another look around her room. Still looking around, she began to pull the IV and other things off of her hands. As soon as she was free of all those things, she pushed her blanket as far down as she could. She began to turn, grimacing at the pain the movement caused her, but she kept moving. Her legs fumbled off the side of the bed and dangled just above the floor. Without giving too much thought to her own weakness, Willow used her arms to propel herself the rest of the way off the bed. Her feet touched the floor and as soon as she straightened up, they gave out on her.

 

She could only gasp in shock as she began to fall. Her hands flailed, desperate to find something to hold onto, but she found nothing. Willow braced herself for a hard impact with the floor when hands appeared out of nowhere and caught her before she could make it to the ground. She grunted as her mysterious saviour yanked her upright again, moving her arm so that it was slung over a strong set of shoulders.

 

“That was graceful.”

 

Willow’s head snapped upwards and she stared at shock at Jesse’s smiling face. The boy just grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows comically.

 

“What?” he chuckled. “I told you I was going to be around.”

 

“I-”

 

“Thought you just dreamt the whole past three years up?” he interrupted her. “Yeah, that would have made more sense, huh? But how long has it been since your life made any kind of sense?”

 

She could only stare at him. He rolled his eyes at her reaction and began to help her across the room.

 

“You know, you’ve been in a coma for three years,” he informed her. “It wasn’t the best idea to just hop out of bed and race for the door. Your legs haven’t been in use for a good while. You’re lucky that I was here.”

 

“Why . . .”

 

“Am I here? Because I promised you that I would be,” he replied easily. “I’ll be around to provide help every now and then. And since you decided to forgo the option of simply calling for a nurse, I’m getting you to the door so that you can call for help. But brace yourself; I’ve stretched myself too thin as it is. In fact, I think that about does it for-”

 

And then he was gone. Willow screamed as she fell forward without Jesse there to hold her upright. She put her hands out in front of her and reached desperately for something to hold onto. Luckily, Jesse had gotten her close enough to the door and she was able to grab the handle. However, the handle turned and Willow continued to fall right out into the hall.

 

She hit the floor hard enough to make her head spin. She groaned in pain, her hands stinging from the impact and her legs still not strong enough to provide her with any help. She needed help, she needed answers-and she really needed them right now. And for once, her prayers were answered in due time.

 

“Jesus! What the hell . . . Shit! It’s Skye Storm!”

 

“Skye Storm . . . You mean that girl from ‘98? She’s still alive?”

 

“Skye, can you hear me?”

 

Willow frowned down into the floor. Who the hell was Skye? Someone shook her gently. Willow lifted her head and saw a brunette woman looking at her with some concern. She opened her mouth, her voice more of a rasp as she answered the woman’s question. “Help, please?”

 

“Cherry, go get the nurses and have someone track down her doctors. Nathaniel, pick her up and get her back into bed. Christ! How the hell did she even manage to make it this far? Doesn‘t anyone check on her?”

 

“She’s been comatose for three years. They probably don’t check on her as often as their waking patients.”

 

Willow felt hands on her back, gently turning her around. She offered no resistance, looking up to see a young auburn haired man lifting her up into his arms. She was carried back into her room and laid carefully back on her bed. Willow attempted to say thanks, but she found that she was drained even from the minimal activity she had just done. Her head fell back on her pillow and she stared at the people who helped her through half-lidded eyes. The man was pulling her blankets back up and over her while the woman had pulled out a cell phone and was dialling away. Willow moaned softly before finally just closing her eyes, slowly surrendering to sleep as the woman began to talk rapidly into her phone.

 

“Zerbrowski? You better get down to Memorial. Skye Storm’s awake . . .what? No, I’m not pulling your leg . . .just get your lazy butt down here and bring Dolph. St. Louis’s mystery girl is awake . . .”

 

And then Willow fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 2  It's the Coppers!

“Skye, this is St. Storr and Detective Reynolds from the St. Louis PD. They have some questions for you. Do you feel up to answering them?”

 

Willow shut her eyes and pressed her right hand against her face as she tried to overcome the sudden headache that struck her. She avoided looking at the three people in the room, even though she knew that they were waiting on her. Willow had only been awake for about two hours and had seen so many people that her head spun. She had been confused to wake up and find the brunette woman and the auburn haired man gone, and about five other people in their place.

 

Those people had turned out to be her doctor and the nurses who had been watching over her for the past three years. Her doctor, Dr. Miller, was a nice enough guy. He was very kind as he looked her over, assured her the weakness in her body would fade with the proper physiotherapy, and offered to stay with her once the police had arrived. Very nice guy this Dr. Miller, and same goes for the nurses, some of who were practically gushing to see her awake. They were certainly very excited to see her up and about, but Willow couldn’t help but be confused by one thing.

 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked Dr. Miller quietly.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Skye, why is everyone calling me Skye?” she asked again. Dr. Miller flushed and exchanged a look with the two police officers. Willow watched this and wondered what made her question so hard to answer. It was a simple enough question.

 

“Well, you were asleep for so long, the press just named you themselves and it kind of stuck,” came the explanation from the female officer, Detective Reynolds if she remembered correctly. Willow squinted at her in confusion, not sure why the press thought her name should be Skye. Did she look like a ‘Skye’ to these people? It just didn’t make any sense.

 

Of course, not too much had made sense since she woke up. After all, hadn’t her best friend Jesse, who had been dead for some five years, help her to the door? And didn’t he appear out of thin air and disappear the same way? And all these people who kept calling her Skye, and these police officers who were supposedly from the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team-maybe this wasn’t even real. Maybe she was just hearing something other than what everyone was telling her. Maybe she had lost her mind, because that certainly would make much more sense than anything she had been told since she woke up.

 

“Oh no, you’re perfectly sane,” Jesse said, suddenly taking a seat next to her. Willow snapped her head to the side to look at him with some shock. He only offered her that mischievous grin of his again. “Now be a good girl and look at the coppers. They’re starting to get a bit worried.”

 

Willow blinked and shot a glance towards the officers, who most certainly were looking worried. The huge man who had been introduced as St. Storr, but who looked like he should be in a NFL line-up, was indiscreetly trying to see what had caught her attention. Detective Reynolds had concern in her hazel eyes as she nervously brushed strands of brown hair behind her ears. Willow swallowed a lump in her throat and dared a glance back at Jesse, only to find him gone.

 

She let out a shaky breath and forced herself to focus on the issue at hand. “My name isn’t Skye,” she said suddenly. “My name is Willow-”

 

“I’d stop there if I were you,” Jesse cautioned her, standing out from behind St. Storr. “You technically don’t exist here. If you say Willow Rosenburg and they find nothing, you’ll be in hot water. Well, hotter water, because you’re kind of over your head as it is. Amnesia should be your new favourite word.”

 

Willow clenched her fingers to keep from screaming as Jesse disappeared once again. She looked up at the officers and saw that Jesse was right. They were writing down every word she said, and they were waiting on the rest. She opened her mouth again, but shut it, as she couldn‘t think of anything to say. She bit her lip and thought about what Jesse said. Amnesia? It could work, if they couldn’t tell that she was lying. Of course, she had never been too good at lying, so this could all blow up in her face. But given her situation, what else could she do?

 

“My name is Willow, Willow . . .” Willow stopped, adopting what she hoped appeared to be a frustrated look. “Willow . . . It’s Willow . . . I know what it is!”

 

“It’s okay Sk-Willow,” Dr. Miller assured her with a pat on the shoulder. “It’s okay, there’s no need to rush things. You’re still getting your bearings after a horrible ordeal. It’ll come back to you, just don’t push it.”

 

“But it’s-” Willow bit her lip and dropped her gaze, praying to God that they believed her. “It’s just, I should remember-it’s on the tip of my tongue. I just can’t . . . I should know this.”

 

“Miss . . . Willow,” Detective Reynolds began. “Do you remember anything from before you woke up? Do you remember how you came to St. Louis?”

 

“I, uh, I . . .” Willow paused again. There was no need to fake her confusion here, because this time it was real. She didn’t know why or how she had ended up here in St. Louis. Shouldn’t she have appeared somewhere in California? How did she end up here?

 

“It’s okay, Willow,” Dr. Miller said again. “It’ll come back to you, I’m sure.”

 

She was grateful for his interference, managing a small smile that soon faded under the hard gazes of the police officers in the room. They didn’t look impressed with her at all. Maybe they were disappointed because she hadn’t explained much. Didn’t that brunette woman from before say something about her being St. Louis’s mystery girl? And why was Detective Reynolds looking at her like that?

 

“Don’t mind her, she just feels a little weird,” Jesse explained, popping up next to aforementioned detective. “After all she found you. You could say that you kind of fell into her lap-after you fell out of the sky. Okay, that‘s a lie. You didn‘t so much fall into her lap as you fell onto a patrol car. Made a horrible dent while you were at it.”

 

It took a lot of her willpower not to squeak right then.

 

“Don’t worry, she just wants answers, they all do,” Jesse said, nodding his head towards Storr. “But it really isn’t in your best interest to provide those answers. On the bright side, you’ve got some pretty decent people looking after you. Ol’ Tammy here, she came to see you once a week since the day you were admitted. Feels obligated to look after you, to find out what happened to you. She thinks that something bad happened to you. Wouldn’t she be flabbergasted to find out that it was all just a lapse in judgement?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Willow muttered as she buried her face in her hands. “I just can’t-I don’t know, I can’t remember . . .”

 

“It’s quite all right,” Dr. Miller interjected. “You look tired. Why don’t you just lie back and relax? I’ll send in Nurse Howard and she’ll see to getting you something to eat, okay?”

 

Willow nodded faintly and sank back down into her bed. She looked sadly at the officers in her room. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

 

St. Storr just got to his feet and nodded at her. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the doctor’s right. You just need some time, and it’ll come back to you. I’m going to leave you my card, and so is Detective Reynolds. If you remember something, or if you want to talk about something, you just call one of us. All right?”

 

Willow nodded silently, watching as St. Storr gave two cards to Dr. Miller, who then placed them by the phone on the small night table to her right. Then all three adults moved out of the room, Detective Reynolds offering the girl a small smile before disappearing into the hall.

 

Willow sighed in relief once they had departed. She closed her eyes and forced back the tears that were building there. She would not freak out, she would not do something stupid. She was going to stay here, get stronger, and then figure out some sort of plan. She was going to need a plan, but she wasn’t sure where to start.

 

“So, as bad as you thought it would be?”

 

Willow groaned and pulled her blankets up to her chin. “Jesse, just tell me something. Are you really here, or am I totally losing my mind?”

 

“You’re not insane,” he said again before flopping onto her bed. She poked him with her toe and found him to be solid, which only caused her to deflate.

 

“That’s exactly what a hallucination would say,” she muttered unhappily.

 

“I’m not a hallucination, I’m here,” he reassured her. “I told you that I would be around, didn’t I? Look at me, being all around and stuff. Always true to my word.”

 

“How come no one else can see you, and I can touch you?” she asked him suddenly, her anger starting to build. “And how come you just come and go like that? How the hell is that helpful? I was so distracted by you that the cops probably think that I’ve lost my mind-”

 

“Or that you’re still disoriented,” he interjected. “And in case you forgot, I was being helpful. Do you have any idea how bad things would have been if you told them that you were Willow Rosenburg from Sunnydale, California? A girl that doesn’t exist from a town that doesn’t exist? Not the best way to convince these people that you’re on the up and up.”

 

“So I convince them that I’m a good girl by lying through my teeth,” Willow countered.

 

“Sure it’s messed up, but that’s the best way right now,” Jesse shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like you could tell them the truth.”

 

“I wasn’t about to tell them about the magic and whatnot,” Willow said tiredly. “I’m not that stupid. I know that they wouldn’t believe me-”

 

“Actually, they would, and that’s the problem,” Jesse leaned back on her bed and looked at her with serious brown eyes. “Willow, this world isn’t anything like ours. It’s the exact opposite.”

 

“How?” she asked. “Jesse, where am I?”

 

“You’re in a place where vampires, werewolves, and magic are all well known and sometimes even governmentally regulated,” he replied. “This place, it’s really messed up. And you’ve got to play it close to the vest if you’re going to survive this. All that stuff you used to research for Giles and Buffy, they study that kind of stuff in universities. And you’re famous to boot, so things are going to be seriously weird for a little while.”

 

“Famous?” Willow repeated. “And they know about vampires and stuff? And I’m famous? Why?”

 

“Why what?” Jesse asked with a frown. “Why do they know about vampires? Or why are you famous?”

 

“Both!”

 

“Um, they know about vampires because they’ve known for a long time,” Jesse explained. “Vampires are even legal citizens in the good US of A. There’s something about a Supreme Court decision, ‘Addison vs. Clark’, that made it illegal to kill them. And as for you, well like I said, you fell out of the sky. There was this huge supernatural storm and then you fell out of the sky, right in front of a lot of people. The press took to you right away. And since you fell out of the sky, just after that freak storm, they named you ‘Skye Storm’.”

 

Willow just stared at him. “Jesse, please be kidding.”

 

“’Fraid not, galpal of mine. In fact, some members of the press are starting to get their gear set up just outside. You’re arrival was huge, and your resurrection is even bigger. They’ll be beating down your door for an interview. I recommend that you not do any. Anything about you is bound to get blown out of proportion.”

 

“So what do I do?” she asked in a small voice.

 

“I’d advise you to stick close to our girl Tammy,” Jesse suggested. “She’s going to want to help. You should let her. After all, what better plan can you have than one that involves police protection?”

 

“Why would I need police protection?” Willow asked immediately.

 

“No reason,” Jesse shrugged. “Just that some of the monsters around here get kind of antsy about outsiders. And honey, you’re beyond an outsider here. But stick close to the copper, she’ll help you out.”

 

And then he was gone. Willow frowned at the spot he had been occupying just seconds before, a pout already forming on her lips.

 

“I hate it when he does that.”

 

~*~

 

Tammy waited patiently while Dolph talked quietly with Skye-er, Willow’s doctor. Her eyes moved away from the two men and looked down the hallway at Willow’s closed door. Three years of wondering, and now they were so close to the answers, and somehow even farther away from before.

 

“It’s not uncommon for patients who come out of comas,” Dr. Miller was saying. “Many exhibit symptoms of post-traumatic stress, and memory loss is one of the most common. Sometimes it just takes some time before the fog clears and things become clear to her.”

 

“So, it’s not permanent?” Dolph asked.

 

“Usually, it’s not permanent,” Dr. Miller consented. “But there’s really no telling until much later on. There’s a slim chance, but again, we won’t know until we’ve had more time to study her condition. She’s going to get started on her physic tomorrow. I’ll look into getting her some sessions with a councillor or one of the psychiatrists on staff. That‘s really all we can do right now. But I‘ll be sure to keep you informed on her condition. The second she starts to remember something, I‘ll give you a call.”

 

“Thank you Dr. Miller,” Dolph nodded and moved away from the doctor. He joined up with Tammy and they both headed for the elevators. Dolph was staring straight ahead, obviously deep in thought. Tammy stayed quiet out of respect, pushing for the elevator and waiting silently. As they waited, Dolph turned to her with a questioning look on his face. “You think it’s real?”

 

“She’s certainly confused,” Tammy said with a shrug. “I believe her when she says she can’t remember how she got here, but . . .”

 

“What?”

 

“I think she’s hiding something,” Tammy confessed as Dolph pressed for the main floor. “I mean, the way she was acting, the way she looked around the room. And she was so distracted; it was like her attention wasn’t even on the interview. It might be what the doctor said, that she’s still disoriented. But there’s something else.”

 

“You think it’s a bad something else?” Dolph looked at her shrewdly. “Like of the magical variety?”

 

“She’s not a witch, not as far as I can tell,” Tammy shook her head. “I just didn’t get any sort of magical reading off of her. She didn’t have any shields up. Her emotions were pretty clear. She’s scared and confused, but I don’t think she’s a witch. But there was something off about the whole situation. Just being in that room, I felt weird. I don’t what it was, but I‘m sure that Willow knew what it was. She was acting too weird for her not to know something.”

 

Dolph grunted and fell silent. The elevator shuddered to a stop and the door slid open. They walked out side by side, greeting the few uniforms standing in the lobby. Just beyond the main doors, the reason for their presence could be seen. Already four news vans had pulled up outside the hospital, and more would join them. It was 1998 all over again. Only this time, their quarry was awake, and Tammy winced, feeling more than a bit sorry for poor Willow. The girl had the misfortune of being a media darling, even though she didn’t know it, and probably didn’t want it.

 

“I heard from the Commissioner that the Mayor wants to do some sort of press conference regarding our girl,” Dolph said grimly as he watched the media circus begin to gain momentum. “I don’t think Willow’s going to get any peace until the public sees her and hears her.”

 

“She’s not ready for that,” Tammy snapped automatically.

 

“I know, but look at this,” Dolph gestured to the vans. “The whole public’s going to be watching her recovery. If you thought ‘98 was bad, wait until she’s let out of here. She won’t be able to go anywhere in this city without being instantly recognized. Hell, give it a few weeks and I doubt that she’ll be able to go anywhere in this whole country without being recognized.”

 

“So what do we do?” she asked her superior.

 

“I don’t know if there is anything we can do,” Dolph shrugged. “Until we know more about this girl, the situation hasn’t changed much from the beginning. We don’t know who she is, where she came from, and how she got here. I’m starting to think that we might never know the entire truth about her. If you’re right, and she’s hiding something, she’s not about to ‘remember’ anything that could help our investigation.”

 

“You think she’s trouble,” Tammy concluded for him.

 

“I think she’s in trouble,” Dolph corrected her. “And I don’t think she’s convinced that talking to us is going to help her any. But I do think that you could convince her otherwise.”

 

“What? How?”

 

“She knows no one,” Dolph reminded her. “And face it, you’re the only person around here she has any sort of connection to. You found her, you helped get her to the hospital, and everyone knows that you visit her a lot. She might open up to you.”

 

“This that a suggestion or an order?” Tammy asked bluntly. Dolph spared her a sideways glance as he led the way to the parking lot.

 

“Right now, it’s a suggestion,” he told her. “But once the higher powers ask me for some sort of game plan for this girl, it’ll be an order. No one’s about to forget about the infamous Skye Storm any time soon. The whole nation’s going to want some answers. We better get them from her before someone else decides to.”

 

Tammy shivered and then finally nodded. Willow really was too famous for her own good. Personally, she thought that Dolph was being generous when he said the entire nation was going to watching every step this girl made. Her arrival had garnered attention on the international stage, and Tammy knew that her revival would no less sensational.

 

After all, who wasn’t curious about the girl that fell out of the sky?


	4. Chapter 3  Friendly Neighbourhood Executioner . . .

Bert Vaughn was a greedy bastard that was getting on her last nerve.

 

Anita Blake, the Executioner, sat in her office at Animator’s Inc., absently snapping pencils in half, all the while wishing she could do the same thing to Bert’s neck. Now, it wasn’t his greediness that was getting to Anita. She was completely used to Bert’s obsession with money. She was long past the point where she actually cared about Bert’s greed. It was better to just accept the lengths Bert would go for the green. And if that meant he booked her solid for months on end, she was okay with that. She didn’t mind her work, especially not since she was so good at it.

 

However, it was when Bert’s greed pushed him to demand things of her that were not directly related to her job, that’s when Anita started to get frustrated. Like right now, when all Bert seemed to see was Skye Storm’s face and the dollar signs he associated with it.

 

She didn’t know how Bert found out about her seeing Skye Storm stumbling about the hospital halls on the day she jumped out of her coma, but she sure wasn’t happy about it. Bert wanted her to ‘use’ her connection with young Skye so that he could cash in on the girl’s fame. Go see her, Bert urged her, make sure the press sees you. And then make sure that Animator’s Inc. is involved in some way. Free publicity, that’s all that Bert was after. And he had seen a potential jackpot in getting the media running on rumours of a relationship between Skye Storm and the Executioner.

 

Anita had told him to shove it, and in true Bert fashion, the man had yet to let it go. Sure he might go hours or even days without mentioning it, but sooner or later Skye Storm’s name would pass his lips and he would start all over again. She wondered if he would stop if she shot him. Threatening to shoot him wasn’t doing all that good, but maybe if she gave him a minor flesh wound he would get the point.

 

Of course, she couldn’t shoot him, even though she wanted to. It wouldn’t do to shoot one’s own boss, and she was pretty sure that once they really had it out about this thing, he would drop it. But right now, when Skye Storm’s face was plastered all over this city, and the rest of the nation, Bert could only see those dollar signs dancing about the girl’s head. Never mind that Skye had been through a horribly traumatic experience, only to wake up and find herself on the nation’s centre stage, Bert saw an opportunity for money to made. He’d keep at it for another week or so, and Anita just needed to keep her homicidal desires to herself for that time. It was a challenge, because Bert was really pushing this, but Anita could control herself.

 

She reached for another pencil, only to find that she had gone through them all. She looked down at her desk and the scraps of writing utensils left after her attempt at stress relief. Anita made a face and got up to grab the wastebasket beside her desk. She began to brush the pencil bits into the garbage when she heard a knock on the door.

 

“If you’re anyone but Bert, come on in,” she called out. Laughter greeted her response as her associate Larry Kirkland let himself into her office. He shot her a grin, stopping briefly to see what she was doing before he started laughing again.

 

“So, what has Bert done now?” he asked conversationally.

 

“The same thing he’s been doing for about three weeks,” she replied grumpily.

 

“Skye Storm again?” Larry shook his head. “He’s really harping on that one, isn’t he? He still wants you to go see her?”

 

“I don’t think he’ll be happy until I get her parading in front of all those news cameras wearing a sandwich board promoting this place,” Anita sighed as she placed her wastebasket back in its original spot. She sat back down and gave Larry her attention. “What can I do for you, Larry?”

 

“Nothing really,” Larry shrugged as he took a seat in one of her visitor chairs. “I haven’t got an appointment for another hour and figured I’d hide out in here. You’re not the only one Bert’s giving a hard time these days.”

 

“Why’s he after you?” she asked curiously.

 

“Same reason he’s after you,” Larry replied. “Miss Skye Storm, our resident mystery girl. Tammy’s the one that found her, and she’s on the case right now. And guess what he wants me to do?”

 

“Use Tammy to get to Skye,” Anita shook her head. “He’s gone over the moon with this girl.”

 

“She is a hot topic right now.”

 

“She’s the only topic right now,” Anita corrected him. “You can’t turn on the television without seeing her every half hour or so. Well, seeing something about her since no one’s actually gotten a good look at the girl so far. Dolph is doing a pretty good job at keeping the press at bay.”

 

“Well, until he can figure out who or what she is, it’s probably the best thing he can do right now,” Larry shrugged. “But Tammy says she’s not a witch-”

 

“Tammy told you this?” Anita arched an eyebrow. “That won’t make Dolph happy. She’s supposed to keep mum concerning everything about this girl.”

 

“Why? Because I’m so untrustworthy?” Larry rolled his eyes. “Besides, it’s not like she tells me everything. And I know she knows something more about this girl than she’s letting on. Remember how they went through all those missing reports the first time around and found nothing? She’s going through them again, the whole ton of them. She’s up later hours than me on some nights. She’s driving herself ragged trying to turn up something on this girl. But back on track, Tammy says she doesn’t think she’s a witch. What about you?”

 

“What about me?” Anita asked snappishly.

 

“You met the girl, for a few seconds, did you get any sort of feeling about her?”

 

Anita shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that Larry.”

 

“Yeah, but if she even has them, her shields couldn’t have been at their best,” Larry insisted. “I mean, she just woke up from a three year coma, and she had to crawl her way out into the hallway to get help. I don’t think she would have had enough strength to erect shields strong enough to withstand a gentle push from you.”

 

“What makes you think that I would do that-”

 

“Anita, I’m not stupid,” Larry interrupted her. “The girl fell out of the sky. You expect me to believe that you weren’t tempted to check her out, for safety reasons if nothing else. Wouldn’t do to have a strong witch running about Jean-Claude’s territory unchecked, would it?”

 

“Larry,” Anita said warningly.

 

“Anita,” Larry mimicked her tone. “Just try and tell me that I’m wrong.”

 

Anita tried her best to glare a hole into her young friend, but found it hard to maintain the look. “Fine, I might have done some minor searching, but it wasn’t overly intrusive or anything,” she admitted defensively. “I was just-”

 

“Curious,” Larry finished for her. “Hell, who isn’t?”

 

Anita shrugged and leaned back into her chair. She had an appointment in about twenty minutes, and that meant she should probably kick Larry out of here so she could get prepared. But she wasn’t quite finished with this conversation. The problem was, Skye Storm did bother her. Not the girl herself, but the circumstances of her situation. Like Tammy, she didn’t pick up anything that would indicate that Skye was a witch, but that didn’t mean the girl was all that innocent.

 

Anita gave a mental groan. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with following that debacle with Chimera. Though it was silly, Anita couldn’t help but feel a little inconvenienced by the girl’s recovery. Honestly, couldn’t have Skye picked a better time to wake up and grab everyone’s attention?

 

“Anita?” Larry called for her attention, frowning at her when she finally looked his way. “Where did you just go?”

 

“Nowhere spectacular,” she muttered. “Sorry Larry, but we’re going to have to pick this conversation up later. I’ve got a client coming in about ten, fifteen minutes. You’re going to have to scram.”

 

“Consider it done,” Larry replied as he rose from his seat. “I’m going to hide in my office until Bert gives up on this whole Skye thing.”

 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Anita advised him. Larry grimaced slightly before he waved his goodbye. Anita watched as he left, shutting her door behind him. Her eyes drifted to the file on her desk and automatically switched gears. She reached for the papers, shutting out all thoughts of Skye Storm as she got down to work.

 

~*~

 

Willow had been surfing the Net when her attention was drawn away by a knock on the door. The redhead turned in time to see one of the nurses, a kind middle-aged blonde woman named Gertie, poke her head into the room.

 

“Hey Skye darling,” Gertie greeted her. “You in the mood for more gifts?”

 

“More?” Willow sighed and pushed herself up higher on her bed. “Honestly Gertie, when is this madness going to stop?”

 

“Don’t be so melodramatic honey,” Gertie admonished her as she entered the room with an armload of parcels and letters. “You should be flattered that so many people are trying to brighten your day.”

 

“I am flattered,” Willow muttered. “I just don’t see the need for all of this stuff.”

 

The ‘stuff’ in question was scattered everywhere about Willow’s private hospital room. It included the computer she had been using prior to Gertie’s arrival, the large screen television and DVD player that had shown up two weeks ago, the extensive DVD library that followed two days later, and a large assortment of other such gifts given to Willow by companies, businessmen, and ordinary people. While most of it was sent with good intentions, Willow couldn’t help but feel like she was being used here.

 

The police had ordered that Willow be kept at the hospital and that no press be allowed near her so they could carry out their investigation without interruption. Willow wasn’t even allowed to tell people that her name wasn’t Skye. She was supposed to maintain that she had complete amnesia to everyone but her doctors and the police. She was to keep everything low-key, and she did that. But that didn’t stop the press from having their circus, or the public from reacting accordingly.

 

The letters and chocolates and stuff wasn’t so bad. Willow was actually very touched that people were taking the time to send her things. But certain things were starting to get on her nerves. Stuff like the television and the computer came from people trying to cash in by being nice to her. Whenever any company sent her something, it was noted by her guards, who told St. Storr, who had to tell the Mayor’s office so that his secretary could issue press releases expressing ‘Skye’s’ gratitude to all these people. Willow had to watch the six o’clock news every night to see who she was thanking that day.

 

Some of the stuff was definitely useful, like the computer and the Internet provider who hooked her up for free. Willow spent hours on the Web trying to get herself familiarized with the world she had woke up in. She was still horribly confused about a lot of stuff, but she was starting to get an idea of how the world worked. She wasn’t too keen on living in a country that had granted legal status to vampires of all creatures, but she wasn’t exactly in much of a position to request a transfer. Her browsing had shown her how deeply the supernatural was integrated in this world, and she was shocked by the depth of it. It was so odd to be in a world that wouldn’t bat an eye at the existence of monsters. Willow wasn’t so sure she was going to be able to be so carefree around some these creatures she had read about. It might prove to be a problem later on.

 

Other stuff wasn’t so useful. And that was mostly the stuff she got from the weird cults and special-interest groups who kept sending her brochures and books about their organizations. The worst was the Druid Underground, who sent her a paper on their beliefs and how they thought she fit into those beliefs. They sent her a complete priestess outfit that would never fit her in a million years, and a few trinkets that they said would help her in quest to recover her identity. Willow heard that they were holding ceremonies outside the hospital that were suppose to bring her memory back. They had invited her to come out and join them on a few occasions, but that wasn’t happening any time soon not only because she wasn’t allowed outside the hospital, but also because she wasn’t going within ten feet of those guys if she could help it.

 

Glancing at the new pile of things Gertie had brought her, Willow was relieved to see that nothing appeared to be from the DU. Most of it was the usual piles of letters along with a box or two of sweets. There was one larger parcel that caught her eye. Closer inspection revealed that there was no return address. How odd.

 

“Gertie?” Willow called. “Did the police scan this stuff yet?”

 

“Of course,” Gertie rolled her eyes at her patient. “You know that we can’t bring up anything that hasn’t been checked out properly. Now, I’ve got to check on a few other patients. You need anything right now, honey?”

 

Willow shook her head and waved goodbye to Gertie as she left the room. Once the nurse was gone, Willow turned her attention her attention to the large, unmarked parcel.

 

It was wrapped very elegantly in a pale green colour. Willow eased the wrapping off the box to reach the box underneath. The box was opened to reveal a swath of white tissue paper and a small envelope. Curious, Willow picked up the envelope and opened it to find a note inside.

 

“’For your first trip to the Circus. Regards, JC’,” Willow read the note aloud. She frowned at the initials on the small note. Who was JC and why did he think that Willow was going to the circus any time soon?

 

“What is it?”

 

Willow yelped in panic and gave a tiny jump. She snapped her head to the right to find Jesse sitting right beside her, his attention focused on the gift in her lap. She glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

 

“You have got to stop doing that,” she told him peevishly.

 

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged carelessly. “Now, what’s in the box?”

 

Willow rolled her eyes at her dead friend and turned back to the box. She pulled away the first few layers of tissue paper to find a bundle of black material nestled snugly in the box. Confused, Willow pulled the black material from the box to find that it was a dress. Hooking her fingers through the thin spaghetti straps, she lifted the dress up so she could look at it properly. It was a lovely dress. A simple black number that wasn’t cut too low in the front and that had a modest hemline. However, the stretchy nature of the cloth led her to believe that it was a very clingy dress that would leave nothing to the imagination. She checked the tag, a little unnerved to find that it was exactly her size.

 

“Okay, that’s weird,” she murmured softly. “Jesse? Little help?”

 

Jesse shrugged, though the carefree look was gone from his face. He reached out and grabbed the note that had been sent with the dress. He read it over, his face paling immediately. Willow automatically reached out and touched his cheek. The whole thing with Jesse still unnerved her now and then. Especially when he was so solid and so lifelike. Sometimes he did things, like blushing and paling, that prompted her to touch him to make sure that he was real, but it did nothing to alleviate her confusion. He might really be there, but that didn’t change the fact that he was dead and that no one but Willow could see him.

 

“Houston, we have a problem,” Jesse intoned dramatically as he set the note down again. “Willow, do you know who this JC guy is?”

 

“Not a clue,” she shrugged, still brushing her knuckles across his cheeks. “Should I know?”

 

“Maybe, depends on how much studying you’ve gotten done,” Jesse motioned to the forgotten computer on her night table. “Come across anything involving Anita Blake?”

 

Willow just shook her head.

 

“Okay, well then, have you gotten as far on vampires on the whole Master of the City business?”

 

A quick nod.

 

“Good, because here’s the problem. The Master of St. Louis is a centuries old French vampire named Jean-Claude.”

 

Willow paled and looked at the dress with some fear. “A vampire is sending me gifts?” she whispered nervously. “Crap, that never means anything good. Can anyone say ‘Angelus’? And what’s with this circus business? Why does the Master of St. Louis want me to wear that dressy little number to the circus?”

 

“Probably because he wants you to wear it to his circus,” Jesse told her. “He owns this business downtown called the Circus of the Damned. It’s a magic show with vampires and all other sorts of crazy critters. And that note is pretty much a VIP invite from the Ringmaster himself.”

 

Willow groaned and fell back against her pillow. “I hate it here,” she informed her friend.

 

“And with good reason,” Jesse agreed cheerfully. “But no time for reflection. Tammy’s heading up the hallway. You better put that stuff away before she sees it. The cops are bound to get their panties all twisted up over something like this.”

 

Willow grumbled and hasted to drop the box under her bed. “Why can’t these people leave me alone?” she moaned.

 

“Because you’re just so damn cute,” Jesse kidded her. “See ya, Wills.”

 

And then he was gone and Tammy was knocking on her door. Willow swallowed her frustration and managed a smile for the detective as she stepped into the room. Tammy returned her smile as she wrestled with her armload of files. Willow knew what that meant. She was in for another hour of going over Tammy’s research so far, another hour of shaking her head and apologizing for her inability to help the detective find out what brought her here. Another hour of lying.

 

God, this place sucked.


	5. Chapter 4  Whoa, Chicken Little!

Willow glared at Jesse. "How is it even possible for you to do that?"

 

Jesse just grinned at her and continued to eat her Jell-O dessert at his leisure. Willow narrowed her eyes at the spirit (as she had decided to classify him) of her dead friend, who insisted on acting in very un-dead like manners.

 

"You're not even alive," Willow complained. "It's not like you could be hungry. So why are you eating all my food?"

 

"I'm not eating all of it,"Jesse corrected her. "And besides, it's not like it's my fault. I didn't make the rules."

 

"Rules?" Willow arched her eyebrow at him. "There are rules for . . . whatever the hell this is? What are they, who made them?"

 

"Can't tell you."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because it's against the rules!" Jesse replied exasperatedly, as if he felt she should have known that answer for herself.

 

"You're being this annoying on purpose, right?" Willow shook her head. "God, Jesse! Can't you just give me a straight answer? Why don't you provide some of that help you claim to be here for?"

 

"I am being helpful," he insisted. "It's not my fault that you can't see that."

 

"Jesse, I'm facing a total crisis right now," she informed him. "Not only am I a strange girl in a strange world, I have to pretend like I have amnesia so that I won't be arrested, or worse, killed by some psycho monster, a breed of creatures that apparently have civil rights in this world. My friend, who has been dead for five years, is constantly popping in and out of my life. No one else can see him, and for all I can tell, he's solid as well. And though he tells me that he's here to help, he certainly didn't do much when Det. Reynolds showed up yesterday to tell me that a psychic would be coming in today to have a look into my mind. One look and that psychic is going to know that I'm lying about the amnesia, that I have a history with black magic, and that I'm from another world. I'll be lucky if they decide to jail me for life."

 

"You forgot to mention that you're currently being lavished with gifts by the most powerful vampire in this city," Jesse reminded her, pointing a finger down at her bed to indicate the boxes she had been hiding there for about two weeks now.

 

Willow made a face. "Thanks for reminding me about that," she muttered sarcastically. She peeked over the side of her bed, casting her eyes on the ground in an attempt to see the five or six boxes hidden there. Jesse was right, she was being lavished with gifts by this Jean-Claude vampire. He kept sending her dresses and other insanely expensive looking designer clothes, along with cards that amounted to invitations to several of his businesses. This Jean-Claude guy was quite the businessnman, though his choice in business ventures led Willow to be a bit uncomfortable. One of the places he invited her to was a strip-club called Guilty Pleasures, and Willow was pretty sure that she was not going there. Just the thought of the place made her blush, and thinking of the outfit he sent her to wear there made her blush even more. Jean-Claude was certainly all about the tight, the silk, the satin, and the provocative, four things Willow herself was not so much about. And what's worse, he definitely knew her size. Everything fit just perfectly, and with every piece of clothing and matching accessories that arrived, Willow's fear rose another notch.

 

"You're worrying too much, again," Jesse rolled his eyes against her. "Just lay back and let me handle this-"

 

"Yeah, like that'll help me relax," Willow shook her head. "Come on, Jesse, give me something to work with here. The psychic comes in, reads my mind, finds out everything there is to know about me, and it'll be okay how?"

 

"Because he won't read your mind," Jesse told her simply. "All right, I was going to tell you later, just so you wouldn't give anything away when the psychic came. I figured it would be better if your surprise was genuine, because you kind of suck at the whole acting thing-"

 

"Hey!"

 

"Well, you do," Jesse grinned. "All right, here's the thing: the guy can't read your mind, because you're not on the same frequency as these people."

 

"Okay," Willow nodded, and then frowned. "Huh?"

 

"It's like this, every universe, dimension, reality-whatever, every one of them has their own unique properties," Jesse explained. "Those properties include their inhabitants, and how those inhabitants were made. So while humans exist in almost every dimension out there, there are slight differences between the dimensions. Like here, magic is widespread throughout the human race. Psychics, real psychics, are common and their basically engineered to be able to read the waves being emitted by their co-inhabitants, which are specific to their dimension's humans. You are from another dimension, and therefore, your brain does not emit psychic waves like everyone else here. And therefore, no psychic reading."

 

Willow blinked and stared at him. "Okay, that sounded kind of intelligent," she shuddered. "And you said it. My world is crashing around me, again."

 

"Shut up," Jesse tossed back goodnaturedly. "Anyway, long story short, he's going to hit a brick wall with you. I'm not saying he's not going to get anything from you, but he won't have access to your thoughts."

 

"And what kinds of things could he get from me anyway?" Willow asked in a quiet voice. "Could he be able to tell that I'm not from around here? And what happens when he tells them that he can't get into my mind? Won't they be suspicious?"

 

"Yeah, but that's where your surprised and innocent act comes in," Jesse shrugged. "That's kind of why I didn't tell you that before, but you were just so damn stubborn."

 

"Bite me, Jesse," she retorted sourly.

 

Jesse laughed. "Hon, that's not really something you want to be saying in this world. Some people might just take it as an invitation."

 

~*~

 

Tammy hadn't really been in support of using a psychic with Willow so soon after she had awakened. She wasn't sure that the girl could handle the psychic pushes at her mind when she was obviously so confused. But other people didn't seem to see things her way. Some people thought that the six weeks in which Willow had been awake had given her enough time to adjust and therefore she was ready for this. Dolph wasn't one of those people, but several federal agencies seemed to think that it was the best route to go. And much to her annoyance, the feds were being given a lot of control over the Willow situation.

 

It was Agent Bradley Bradford who had called Dolph with the order that one of the FBI's most credible psychics would be coming down to St. Louis for a little one-on-one with Willow. Apparently the good FBI agent was the very same that Anita Blake has had so much contact with, which meant there was a good chance that the infamous Miss Blake would be brought in to consult on Willow's case. And that was something that Tammy really wanted to avoid.

 

It was partly due to the fact that Anita kind of made her very uneasy. Trouble followed on Anita's heels, and Tammy was really trying to avoid getting into Anita-sized trouble lately. But it was mostly because of Willow herself that Tammy was uneasy about the prospect of Anita's involvement. The girl was very uncertain about everything! Tammy knew what the idea of vampires did to the girl. Every time she heard or saw anything regarding the undead, Willow went pale. Vampires clearly frightened her, and with all the searching she did on her computer, Tammy was certain that she had come across Anita by now. The connection between Anita and Jean-Claude was well-known, and Tammy was willing to bet her badge that the mere sight of the woman would case Willow extreme discomfort.

 

Tammy sighed and tapped her foot impatiently as the hospital elevator made its way to Willow's floor. Dolph was already there with Willow's doctor, and Agent Bradford and Mr. Eckles were due to arrive shortly. Tammy wrinkled her nose when she thought of the psychic. Her one hope was that he wouldn't frighten Willow too much, because she knew that he would a little no matter what. Willow had been very perturbed at the idea of someone trying to get inside her head. It wasn't uncommon, Tammy also didn't like people trying to bully their way into her thoughts. But Willow had consented, most likely because she knew that outright refusing it would lead to suspicions on the part of the FBI. She didn't say it, but Tammy knew that she was thinking it. Willow was a pretty smart girl. A very smart, very scared, and very confused girl who had very little options opened to her.

 

The elevator's bell rang and the doors slid open. Tammy stepped out into the hallway, smiling and waving to a few of the nurses as she made her way to Willow's room. She met Dolph and Dr. Miller not too far from her destination, both of them embroiled in a bit of a debate. Tammy had to hide a grin at that. Dr. Miller was also very much against the use of a psychic in Willow's case. He felt that allowing Willow more sessions with a therapist would be more productive than having someone push their way into her mind. Tammy agreed with him, but that meant giving the situation a lot of time to work itself out. However, time was not something that the feds were willing to give them. Willow's case was too public and the circumstances too explosive to let this thing just unfold slowly. People wanted results, and they wanted them now.

 

"Detective Reynolds," Dolph acknowledged her presence with a nod. "Dr. Miller and I were just discussing the appointment for today."

 

"And I'm still not convinced that this is best for my patient," Dr. Miller interjected. "But I understand that all our hands are tied at this point. I just want it to be known, if Willow experiences too much discomfort or gets too upset at any point of the meeting, I will be forced to shut it down."

 

"Perfectly understandable," Dolph agreed. "I'm sure Agent Bradford and Mr. Eckles won't be surprised by it, but I will let them know."

 

Tammy smiled weakly as Dr. Miller excused himself. She turned to Dolph once she thought the doctor was out of earshot. "He's not wrong," she told her superior. "I don't think Willow will be able to withstand this kind of intrusion. She's just not strong enough."

 

"That's why you're here," Dolph shrugged. "You get her calm enough to get through some of it, and then we'll go from there. Not having this meeting is not an option. Trust me, that has been made very clear."

 

"I know," Tammy muttered. "But I don't have to like it."

 

~*~

 

Willow couldn't remember a time that she had had less fun.

 

She looked into the curious brown eyes of Mr. Eckles, the federally licensed psychic, and tried her best not to have a heart attack. Det. Reynolds and St. Storr were off to the corner, with Tammy giving her the occasional encouraging smile. St. Storr was poker-faced as usual and he watched the entire proceedings like a hawk. Dr. Miller was standing by Agent Bradford, and they were standing close to the door. A wide berth had been given the two people in the centre of the room. Willow felt more than a little isolated and kind of like she was under a microscope.

 

And Jesse was not helping at all!

 

The redhead spared her spirit friend a glare before turning back to the man trying to read her mind. Jesse just grinned and continued to make faces at the back of Mr. Eckles's head. He was being so very distracting, pulling faces and performing jerking movements with his body that made it difficult for her not to laugh. He was deliberately trying to provoke her, and she would kill him for it if he wasn't already dead. Erupting into a fit of giggles right now was going to convince these people that she had lost her mind.

 

Of course, that might be the least of her troubles right now. Mr. Eckles was starting to look more than a bit shocked, and Willow figured that meant Jesse had been telling her the truth before. He couldn't get a single damn thing from her. While that was a blessing in some ways, it was also going to cause some problems because this was so not supposed to happen.

 

"Well, he looks a bit put out," Jesse observed, stopping his actions from before to stand calmly behind the psychic. "Should we just put an end to this right now? What do you say, Willow? Oh right, probably not best to talk to thin air in front of all these people."

 

Willow did her best not to scowl at him. She almost failed.

 

"All right," Jesse rubbed his hands together with relish. "Let's get down to business."

 

Willow watched as Jesse leaned over and pressed his fingers against Mr. Eckles's temples. For one second Willow thought that Jesse was just messing with her again. But then she saw Mr. Eckles's eyes widened. For one moment Willow was sure that that was it. Mr. Eckles was going to say he couldn't help and head off home.

 

And then it all went to Hell.

 

"AHHHH!"

 

Willow jumped back in shock as the psychic erupted into a series of gut-wrenching screams. The other four occupants of her room immediately jumped into action and there was a explosion of shouts and orders. Willow swallowed her own yelp of fear and scooted up to the front of her bed as she watched Mr. Eckles's flail around on her floor. St. Storr and Agent Bradford had grabbed him by the arms and begun to propel him out of the room while Dr. Miller shouted for some orderlies. Tammy rushed to her side and Willow grabbed her hand tightly in her own.

 

"What happened?" she practically shouted. "What happened to him? What's wrong?"

 

Tammy just shook her head, her own hazel eyes wide with shock as Mr. Eckles was led out of the room. His screams could be heard echoing all the way up and down the hallway. At first they were just indiscriminate screams, but soon words could be made out of the mess. Willow felt her heart drop as she finally made out what the man was screaming.

 

"THE SKYE IS FALLING! THE SKYE IS FALLING! THE! SKYE! IS! FALLING!"


	6. Chapter 5  Shove it Henny Penny

Tammy watched nervously as Dr. Miller quietly let himself out of Mr. Eckles’s hospital room. Next to her, St. Storr got to his feet and she was quick to follow suit. Agent Bradford looked up from the newspaper he had been perusing, his expression one of disinterest. That kind of ruffled her feathers. Even St. Storr had displayed some emotion over the disaster that had just occurred. Of course he had been expressing irritation over the disturbance, not concern like Tammy herself. However, Agent Bradford hadn’t seemed at all fazed by what happened. If she didn’t know any better, she would have said that he had been expecting nothing less than what happened. It made her wonder exactly what the government knew about Willow and whether it was more than what they had managed to gather over the past three years.

 

“How is he?” Tammy blinked as St. Storr’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. She turned her attention to the doctor and noted with some relief that his expression wasn’t too grave.

 

“Mr. Eckles is resting comfortably,” Dr. Miller informed them. “We had to administer a mild sedative initially. He remained slightly hysterical until the drug took effect. But he seems to have collected himself.”

 

“What happened?” Agent Bradford asked softly.

 

“We’re not sure,” Dr. Miller admitted. “It seems like he received a massive shock to the system. His heart rate was significantly accelerated and he was sweating profusely until he managed to regain calm. As for what caused the problem, I can’t even wager a guess. The only person who could tell you that is Mr. Eckles himself. And once he’s awake, I’m sure that he’ll be happy to answer your questions.”

 

Agent Bradford thanked the doctor for his time and stepped to the side to allow the man to carry on his way. Tammy watched the doctor’s back for a minute before she gave her attention to her superior. St. Storr hadn’t seemed all that pleased with what the doctor had told him. He was glaring at the door, as if willing Mr. Eckles to rouse this very second so they could get down to the questions.

 

“He might be wrong,” Agent Bradford started slowly. Tammy frowned and stared at the agent in confusion.

 

“Wrong about what?” she asked.

 

“About Mr. Eckles being the only one who can tell us what happened,” he clarified. “Perhaps Miss Storm has some sort of explanation for the incident.”

 

“I doubt it,” Tammy replied immediately. Both St. Storr and Agent Bradford looked at her closely after that. She flinched inwardly and realized that maybe now was the time for her to keep her mouth shut.

 

“You have an awful lot of confidence in this girl,” Agent Bradford stated.

 

“She’s given me no reason not to,” Tammy said in reply.

 

“She hasn’t given you any reason to have this confidence, either,” St. Storr reminded her. “Maybe you ought to step back from this, Reynolds. You might be getting too close to this case.”

 

“Actually, that might not be a bad thing,” Agent Bradford said before she could respond. “She obviously has a lot of faith in Willow, and the feeling seems to be returned. Willow feels a little safer around you, doesn’t she detective?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” Tammy said firmly.

 

“What’s this leading up to, Bradford?” Storr demanded. “I know you’ve got some sort of plan. The Bureau wouldn’t have sent you down there if they didn’t have some sort of game plan in mind. Care to fill us in, or are we about to see this case become federal territory?”

 

“This case has always been federal territory,” Agent Bradford corrected. “The Bureau may not have been as active with this case as you have been, but Willow has never ceased to be a federal concern. She fell from the sky, without warning and without explanation.”

 

“I remember,” Tammy snapped, her patience starting to wear thin. “What are you planning to do with her?”

 

“At this point, nothing much,” Agent Bradford admitted. “Right now, all we want is to observe Miss Storm. Unfortunately, it seems that all everyone wants to do is to observe her as well. She’s far too famous, and while she’s here, any serious surveillance is out of the question. We’re lucky that there has never been any close-ups taken of her and published in the papers. A little tweaking, and she could blend right into the background.”

 

“’Tweaking’?” Storr repeated.

 

“The red hair has to go. The eyes can be easily concealed with some contacts. And a few hours in a tanning salon and her skin will be suitably changed.”

 

“And the makeover comes courtesy of who? And why?” Tammy demanded.

 

“You’re going to move her,” Storr said in understanding.

 

Agent Bradford graced them with a small smile. “We’re going to move her into plain sight.”

 

~*~

 

“Stop looking at me like that. You’re acting like this is my fault or something.”

 

Willow glared at Jesse, letting him know with her expression that she felt that all of this was his fault. The spirit of her friend rolled his eyes at her stern expression and draped himself across the bottom half of her bed. Willow contemplated kicking him, but considering that other people couldn’t see Jesse, she figured it wouldn’t be best if people witnessed her attacking the air. It might make her seem strange. Well, stranger than she already appeared.

 

Willow turned her attention away from the dramatics of her dead friend and watched as her guards did their best to watch her while avoiding looking at her. Sam and Gary were okay guys. In fact, they had been her official police guards since she woke up and they were always very nice to her. They didn’t seem to hold the dropping out of the sky thing against her, which was nice. They were usually pretty quiet, unless there was some sort of sporting event on that they wanted to see. During those times they dragged themselves into her room, seated themselves in front of the huge television, and proceeded to act like she was one of the guys instead of their responsibility. Maybe they figured that if they were going to use her television they would have to include her somehow. The rest of the time, they were silent but still pleasant.

 

But right now, they looked like they were in pain. Both seemed determined to keep a close eye on her, but also not look at her the best they could. In all truth, they looked kind of constipated, and if Willow wasn’t extremely worried about the not-so-distant future, she would have found it very funny. But right now, she didn’t find anything too funny. She was kind of too afraid that Mr. Eckles was permanently broken and that she was somehow going to end up being held responsible for it. She wondered if breaking a psychic with your mind was some sort of crime in this world. Knowing her luck, it was probably a capital offence.

 

“You know, that pessimism is not going to get you very far,” Jesse warned her. Willow looked away from her guards and leveled another glare at the specter on her bed. Jesse was looking up the ceiling, his hands folded under his head as he whistled some vaguely familiar tune. He stopped his whistling suddenly and stared at her incredulously. “Hey, those thoughts of yours aren’t very nice. Is this the thanks I get for helping you out?”

 

Willow very nearly screamed at that comment. But instead she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she tried to regain calm. Sam and Gary were still in the room and that meant yelling at Jesse would have to wait. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t have to wait. She could just think very mean things toward him. He seemed to be reading her mind at will, and if he wanted to play by those rules, she could very well make sure he understood how she felt.

 

“Hey, those aren’t very pleasant thoughts!” Jesse got up to rest on his elbows. “You know Willow, I’m starting to get the distinct impression that you do hold me responsible for this situation.”

 

Considering it was his fault . . .

 

“So wasn’t,” he argued. “Okay, I know that things seem really bad right now, but that doesn’t mean that we automatically have to play lay the blame or whatever. Besides, you’re just assuming that they’re thinking the worst.”

 

How could they not be thinking the worst. The psychic had some sort of mental meltdown!

 

“Maybe it was just his time,” Jesse hypothesized.

 

Or Jesse messed him up real bad.

 

“Hey, let’s not go back down this route,” Jesse grumbled. “All right, I admit that the meeting didn’t go as planned, but honestly, it so can’t be blamed on me. Okay, so I’m the one that let him onto your wavelength and that caused him to freak out in a major way, but really I’m the victim in all this. All that shouting and screaming really hurt my poor eardrums.”

 

Willow sighed and turned to stare stubbornly out her window. Until Jesse started sharing, she was so not talking, or thinking, at him anymore.

 

“You can’t mean that.”

 

She remained silent. Oh look, the DU was having some sort of prayer circle outside again. Shady cult beliefs aside, those guys put on a great show. Hey, the naked bald man was doing his seizure dance again. Someone was about to be arrested for the fourth time this month.

 

“Okay, fine, be like that. You want to know the truth, here it is.”

 

She turned away from the window and looked at him expectantly.

 

“I don’t know what happened,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what that psychic saw that made him go all crazy because I don’t know what I let him see. You see, I’m just the go-between, sent down to you to make this transition a little easier for you. I get my orders and I carry them out. There’s no room for questions or second-guessing. I just have faith that whatever they tell me to do is in your best interest. Now granted, it doesn’t seem like this has been for your best interests, but maybe that’s because enough time hasn’t passed. Maybe something really good will come out of this.”

 

She gave him a look.

 

“Honestly, Willow, you’re being too negative. I swear that I’m only here to look out for you, and that means that nothing I do can bring you harm. It might bring you grief, but it’s all for your benefit. There’s a reason for the psychic’s meltdown, and while we don’t know what that reason is, we just have to have faith that those higher powers know what they’re doing.”

 

Willow bit her lip, her uncertainty clearly written on her face. Jesse sighed and moved so that he was sitting next to her. He slung one arm over her shoulders and drew her close to his chest.

 

“It’ll turn out okay,” he assured her. “I never said that this was going to be easy, but that doesn’t mean you have to get into a funk every time something unfortunate happens. You just got to learn to roll with the punches. After all, it can’t be bad all the time, can it?”

 

Given her track record so far . . .

 

“Enough,” Jesse interrupted her thoughts. “That’s it. You’re going to go crazy overanalyzing this. It’s been a long day. Try and get some sleep. You’re going to need the energy come tomorrow.”

 

And with that, he was gone. Willow glared at the spot she had last seen him. She hated it when he got all cryptic like. It usually meant that things weren’t going to get any better, and in fact, he just might be making this worse in the near future.

 

Grumbling to herself about the unfairness of it all, Willow buried herself underneath the covers and closed her eyes. Maybe sleep was the best option for now. She certainly didn’t have anything else to do.

 

~*~

 

Larry Kirkland was not having the best day.

 

His day had started out very promisingly. He had gotten up in the early afternoon, had time for his daily jog and shower before he had to head into work. It wasn’t until after he entered the halls of Animators Inc. that his day started to head south. He checked his schedule to find that his boss Bert Vaughn had booked him for four raisings for the second night in a row. The day secretary had somehow started a small office fire that morning and most of his paperwork from the previous night had to be redone. And to make matters worse, his girlfriend wasn’t able to meet him for their customary cup of coffee before a long night of work for them both.

 

“Now that’s a happy face.”

 

Larry looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and saw that Anita was standing in his doorway. The petite brunette looked like she was having a far better day than he was, and that fact made him just a tad bit grumpier than before.

 

“Haven’t got much reason to be happy,” he replied sourly. “Honestly, Bert’s going to kill me if he keeps this up. Four raisings tonight, just like last night. I think he’s just mad because I refused to help him exploit that Skye Storm thing for business.”

 

“Seems like something he would do, but then again, Bert’s always been a slave driver,” Anita looked at him sharply. “What’s the real reason for the glum face? Fighting with Tammy?”

 

“You wish,” Larry chuckled, knowing full and well how odd Anita found his relationship with the detective. “Nah, we just aren’t meeting up for coffee. Apparently she’s got some family obligations that are more important than me right now.”

 

“Family obligations?” Anita frowned. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

 

“Nope,” Larry just shook his head. “Just something about one of her cousins. Apparently this girl’s thinking of moving down to St. Louis, and Tammy’s kind of excited about the idea.”

 

“And you dislike this because?” Anita prompted him.

 

“Who said I disliked it?” he asked defensively.

 

“Larry,” was all she said in response.

 

“Fine,” he conceded. “But it’s not a dislike thing, it’s just that it’s kind of weird.”

 

“Weird? How?”

 

Larry shrugged. “Well, until today, I never knew that Tammy had any girl cousins. She always says that she grew up around boys, it just seems like this Willow girl is coming out of the blue-”

 

“Where’s Anita?”

 

Both animators turned when they heard their boss shouting. Larry immediately forgot about his troubles and gave Anita a teasing smirk.

 

“He’s in a great mood today,” he informed her sarcastically. “Have fun.”

 

Anita rolled her eyes and waggled her fingers in goodbye before heading off. Larry snickered as he noticed that she appeared to be heading in the exact opposite direction of Bert’s voice. Bert seemed to notice too, because his shouting increased and subsequently got louder.

 

Chuckling, Larry went back to his work with a far more cheerful disposition than before.


	7. Chapter 6  You Cant Catch Me . . .

Katie Karlson looked up from her papers and flashed her viewers the megawatt smile that had made her so popular during her professional career. Katie was a petite woman with short blonde hair and big blue eyes who delivered the six o’clock news for Channel 9. Whatever the news topic of the day, her viewers could always depend on Katie to deliver it with professionalism and that big smile of hers. Most of the news-viewing public adored Katie Karlson.

 

Anita hated her with a fiery passion. It wasn’t like Katie had ever done anything directly to Anita, though sometimes her coverage of incidents relating to Anita’s life did grate on her nerves. In reality, Anita disliked the blonde anchorwoman for the exact reasons most other people loved her. That huge, idiotic smile was always on her face! There was no way anyone should look that perky when reporting on the catastrophes of the day. And the only reason Anita watched Katie’s report was because Katie was usually the best source of information. Though she was loathed to admit it, the perky blonde actually seemed like she knew what she was doing.

 

“Good evening,” Katie greeted all those viewers out in TV-land. “Breaking news at this hour: the mystery of young Skye Storm has taken another turn for the bizarre. Just ten minutes ago, the Mayor began a joint conference with the FBI to give us the latest on Miss Storm’s case. We go now to the press conference in process.”

 

Katie gave the camera one last smile before her image was cut away and replaced with the smiling face of the Mayor. Anita made a face at the sight of the man. She didn’t particularly like the Mayor. Again, it wasn’t because of anything that he had done to Anita personally, but rather she found his handling of the Skye Storm situation to be revolting. Right from the start it seemed like he had been intent on using the poor girl’s misfortune to garner publicity for his city, and himself. And once Skye had awakened, his behaviour did not improve.

 

“I know that we as a city,” the Mayor was saying, “have a great deal invested in the case of young Skye Storm. That pretty, innocent girl who appeared so mysteriously in our city has earned a place in our all hearts over these three years, but we were always curious about who she really was. Now the answers are at hand. I turn the microphone over to Special Agent Jane Hartford, representative of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

 

There was a scattering of polite applause as the agent stepped forward. Anita narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. The agent was a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and a thin, pointed face. Something about her was vaguely familiar, but Anita couldn’t remember exactly where she had seen her. The agent stepped out to the microphone and paused briefly to flash the gathered people a small smile.

 

“The Federal Bureau of Investigation is pleased to report that the mystery over young Skye Storm’s identity has come to an end,” Agent Hartford announced. “A positive identification has occurred and we will be helping Miss Storm get back to her old life as soon as possible. Now, I’m sure that many of you would like to know exactly who the young woman is. However, certain complications exist that make it impossible for the Bureau to relate too much information to the public. I’m sure that I need not remind any of you of how Miss Storm arrived here three years ago. Given the events that led up to her arrival, it isn’t surprising to learn that Miss Storm had barely managed to escape a very dangerous situation. It is due to this fact, and for the safety of Miss Storm and the general public, that Miss Storm will be placed under federal protection at the soonest appropriate time.”

 

Agent Hartford paused and looked out at the sea of reporters who went absolutely berserk at her announcement. Anita watched as the agent took a few questions, but from the vague answers that were supplied, she was certain that the conference was all but over. She grabbed the remote and turned off the television. Silence filled the space of her living room, broken only by the slightest breathing sounds emitted by her companions. Anita knew that they were all waiting for her to say something, but she just wasn’t sure what she could say to them. Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to process everything she had just witnessed. Skye Storm was going to be moved out of St. Louis?

 

“This isn’t over,” she murmured as she rubbed her lower lip thoughtfully.

 

Another long silence followed until someone decided to ask the question. “What do you mean?” It was Micah, and he sounded very uncertain. Anita turned away from the blank television screen and gave him a long look. A quick glance around the room showed that the rest of her leopards appeared to be as uncertain as Micah, but they were patiently awaiting her explanation.

 

She might as well give it her best shot. “This Skye Storm business isn’t over,” she clarified. “That agent, I remember her. I met her once, a long time ago. She’s not the FBI’s PR woman. She’s one of their senior witch agents, and she’s only called in on the big preternatural cases.”

 

“Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it?” Cherry ventured to say. “I mean, Skye did fall out of the clear night sky. If that’s not a big preternatural event, then I don’t know what is.”

 

“It still doesn’t make any sense,” Anita insisted. “Why all the answers all of a sudden?

 

 

They’ve been working on this case for three years, and we’ve never been given even one indication of how their investigation was going. Why would the feds want everyone to know that they figured out the mystery of Skye Storm. They could have just moved her first and then given a statement. Instead, they did this. It just smacks of a set-up.”

 

“What do you think they’re up to?” Micah asked softly.

 

Anita shrugged and leaned back into her sofa. “I don’t know, but I can tell you this much: they can say whatever they like, they haven’t got a single damn clue who Skye is.”

 

~*~

 

There were many times in her life where Willow wished she could just turn invisible and run away from a situation. It had usually been when she was being teased in the school corridor and neither Xander nor Jesse had been there to comfort her. And right now, she was having another one of those moments, and just like all those times before, her wish did not come true. Instead, she stayed where she was, in the centre of attention with a lot of explaining to do.

 

“Willow?” Tammy called her. “You all right?”

 

Willow was most definitely not all right, and it was entirely Tammy’s fault. Of course, the detective could not be directly blamed for Willow’s discomfort, but she surely was a big factor in the situation. But the real source of all this uneasiness was sitting on her bed, unwrapped for Tammy to see. Gertie had brought it in just minutes before Tammy arrived, and Willow had been so engrossed in her fear that she hadn’t heard Tammy’s approach before it was too late.

 

“What are you waiting for?” Jesse hissed into her ear suddenly. “Say something!”

 

She blinked and plastered a smile on her face. “Hey Tammy,” she said shakily. “Sorry, I was just thinking and you kind of surprised me-”

 

Tammy’s face melted into a look of understanding and Willow gave a mental sigh of relief. And then the brunette’s eyes slid over to the open box still sitting on Willow’s hospital bed. Willow felt her heart sink as Tammy wandered over and pulled the startling red dress from the box. She held it up to her face and Willow knew she saw how incredibly short and tight the dress was. Tammy frowned and shot Willow a confused look. “Who sent this?”

 

Immediately, Willow crushed the small card she had been hiding behind her back, squishing the paper in her fist. She could not let Tammy see that card, the one that had been signed by the Master of the City himself, inviting her to something called Danse Macabre. If Tammy saw that, she would get suspicious right away. A quick search would result in all the other boxes sent by the vampire being dragged out from under her bed, and then Willow would be in hot water. How would she explain to the police that she had been getting very intimate gifts from a powerful vampire and decided not to tell them? It certainly wouldn’t help convince everyone that she was as innocent as she claimed to be.

 

“Tell her it came from a store,” Jesse ordered her.

 

“It came from a store,” Willow blurted out obediently. “I guess they thought I would need something like this in federal protection.”

 

Tammy arched an eyebrow at that. “How thoughtful of them,” the woman muttered as she dropped the dress back into the box. Willow almost fainted in relief, but felt her heart constrict again when Tammy flipped the box lid over so she could see the front. The very large, ornate initials ‘JC’ seemed to glare out at Willow. The redhead watched with trepidation as Tammy’s eyes widened. The detective turned back to Willow with a harsh look on her face. “A clothing store?”

 

“Just nod and tell her that they always send you things,” Jesse coached her. “Show her the stuff under the bed. Act innocent and insist you thought it was a clothing store.”

 

“Yeah,” Willow managed to say, her mind racing with the instructions her dead friend had given her. “They’ve been sending me stuff for weeks. It’s all under there. A lot of it’s really extravagant. I wanted to return everything because they all look insanely expensive, but the shop never left their return address.”

 

Tammy frowned at her and glanced down at where Willow indicated the other boxes were. She immediately bent down and began to pull the boxes out from under her bed. “Just stay calm,” Jesse whispered in her ear as they watched Tammy check the boxes for the identity of their sender. “You took all the cards out so she won’t be able to say that you knew otherwise. If she tells you that they aren’t from a store, you act surprised. If she even lets it slip that JC is Jean Claude, French vampire extraordinaire, have a minor freak out.”

 

“Willow, how long have these been coming?” Tammy asked her sharply.

 

“A couple of weeks,” Willow answered, forcing a confused look on her face. “Tammy, what’s wrong?”

 

“What made you think they came from a store?” Tammy demanded.

 

Willow made a show of shrugging her shoulders. “Because they’re all clothes and there was never any card. I just assumed it was another local company doing what they could to get free publicity or whatever. Tammy, why are you acting like this? What is it? Is it something bad?”

 

She let her voice go a little higher on that last sentence. Jesse nodded approvingly. “Nice touch.”

 

Tammy looked at her with some sympathy, and Willow started to feel very poorly about herself. She really hated lying to Tammy. Well, Willow disliked lying to anyone, but she felt particularly bad when she lied to Tammy. The female detective had done so much for Willow because she believed that the redhead was just an innocent bystander in all this. Wouldn’t she be shocked to learn that this innocent redhead had managed to do this to herself?

 

“It’s nothing bad, Willow,” Tammy assured her. “It’s just that something’s a bit off about this. Willow, I’m going to have to confiscate all these things right away, all right?”

 

Willow nodded almost frantically. “Sure,” she agreed. “Whatever you want.”

 

Tammy gave her another sympathetic look before she gathered up what boxes she could and made for the door. Tammy went out the door, sending Gary in to pick up whatever boxes had been left behind. Both officers were gone within minutes and Willow almost but fell backwards onto her bed.

 

“Way to go, Wills!” Jesse cheered from her bedside. “Man, you’re getting really good at this acting shtick.”

 

Willow groaned and closed her eyes. She could only imagine the chaos that was about to erupt. It seemed wholly inappropriate for Jesse to be doing cheers for her ‘acting skills’ when there was another crisis on the horizon. “Jesse, not now.”

 

“Of course,” Jesse nodded sagely. “You need to reserve your strength. After all, you’ve got a hell of a ploy to pull off come tomorrow.”

 

And that was something she really didn’t need to be reminded of. Her mind conjuring up various horrific situations that could happen over the next little while, Willow burrowed herself underneath her bed covers and resolved not to come out until morning. Jesse chuckled at her and happily helped himself to the chocolates that had arrived yesterday.

 

~*~

 

“How the hell did we not notice that he was sending her these things?” Zebrowski demanded of those gathered around St. Storr’s office.

 

“Because they weren’t coming through the usual means,” Tammy answered him as she joined the rest of her colleagues in her superior’s office. Storr looked up from his desk and gave the woman a sharp glance.

 

“So you found the leak?” he asked gruffly.

 

“One Gertie Benson, a nurse at the hospital,” Tammy reported as she handed him the file. “She’s sitting in lock-up right now. Says she was paid an insane amount of money to sneak all this stuff to Willow under our noses. She says that she didn’t really see the harm because it was just clothing.”

 

“Of course she didn’t see the harm,” Zebrowski snorted. “All she saw was the pay-off.”

 

Storr was silent as he glanced at the papers Tammy had handed him. After a few moments, he turned his attention away from the papers and focused on the detectives gathered in his office. “What does he hope to gain by doing this? No note, no card, how would he expect an amnesic girl to even have an inkling about who he is?”

 

“Maybe it’s not about her knowing who he is,” Tammy murmured. “Maybe he was attempting something with a bit more subtlety than that.”

 

“It’s hard to know what he could gain from this, other than a connection to our mystery girl,” Zebrowski added. “We know that he expressed a lot of interest in her when she first . . . appeared. But even then we weren’t sure what he wanted from her. Maybe he thinks she’s a threat, or worse, another potential ally?”

 

“Ally for what?” Storr asked bluntly.

 

Zebrowski gave an easy shrug and shot his superior a wide grin. “I don’t know, but I can think of someone who might.”

 

There was a tense silence as everyone thought about that ‘someone’ Zebrowski had been referring to. Storr clenched his fists briefly before turning to Zebrowski with a stern face. “Call her and her boyfriend in,” he ordered. “I think it’s high time we had a serious discussion about this with Anita and her vampire.”

 

Tammy felt her stomach churn at Storr’s words. A heart-to-heart with the Executioner and the Master of St. Louis about Willow was something that she had hoped to avoid. But it seemed that she was out of luck with that. Jean-Claude had forced their hand. She just prayed that this meeting wouldn’t jeopardize the plan for tomorrow. They were quickly running out of time.

 

Willow had to be moved. Now.


	8. Chapter 7  Im The Ginger-Haired Girl

It had been Agent Bradford who had brought the box in, late Tuesday night. Usually Tuesday nights were Gertie’s nights to work, but considering everything that had happened, Willow suspected that she wouldn’t be seeing Gertie ever again. The news of the nurse’s sneakiness had come with some surprise. And though the gifts were from a vampire and tended to freak Willow out of her mind, she couldn’t make herself feel that angry at Gertie. Sure she did it for the money, but it wasn’t like she was bought to bump Willow off, or something just as serious. Willow honestly believed that Gertie wouldn’t have snuck in anything dangerous. To her eyes, they were just some nice clothes. However, Tammy had assured Willow that anything Jean-Claude sent was hardly harmless. The vampire in question was not one of Tammy’s favourite people-if he could be considered a person at all. And it all boiled down to the most obvious argument: if the gifts were so harmless, why did Jean-Claude pay off one of her nurses to sneak it past the police?

 

And so, Gertie was long gone, probably fired to boot, and the rest of the nurses and doctors were being questioned to make sure they were on the up-and-up. And while this was going on, it was up to Agent Bradford to amble into her room late Tuesday night and put that box on her night table. Willow supposed the feds were resolved to keep the hospital staff as far removed from this as possible. While that wasn’t necessarily bad idea, because of the safety issues, but Willow wasn’t finding herself enjoying the extra time spent around all these special agents. And Agent Bradford’s aloof manner reminded her way too much of Mulder from ’The X-Files’. It also didn’t help that Jesse found his full name, Bradley Bradford, too priceless to let up on. Willow honestly wasn’t able to look Agent Bradford in the eyes without having to forcibly quell a few giggles.

 

And all of these things were weighing too heavily on her mind. Tammy had instructed Willow to get some rest because once morning came, there would be an insane amount of work to do. And while she knew it was good advice, Willow couldn’t bring herself to go to sleep. Jesse had disappeared, gone back to wherever the hell it is that he goes when he’s not with her, and for once she was left to her own devices. Sleep should have come easily, but it evaded her. She stayed up most of the night, contemplating that box on her night table and imagining all the horrible ways this plan could end. By the time dawn came, Willow was convinced that this plan was doomed to failure, and that she really shouldn’t eat so much fudge before bedtime because it was making her mind go a mile a minute, with very odd results.

 

It was at about six in the morning when sleep finally did come to her, though it was a fitful sort of sleep. She had horrible dreams about vampires, politicians, and naked members of the DU trying to dress her up like Raggedy-Anne. When she woke up again, it was ten in the morning and Jesse sat on the edge of her bed, smiling at her.

 

“Raggedy-Anne?” he asked amusedly. Willow stuck her tongue out at him before reaching up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Jesse chuckled at her response and then fell silent. She looked up again and saw him eying the box on her night table.

 

“I know,” she said before he could open his mouth. “I’m starting to feel a bit antsy myself.”

 

Jesse nodded, his eyes locked on the box. “So, when are you supposed to . . .”

 

“They said whenever I got up for the day,” Willow replied with a shrug. “So, I guess that means now.”

 

Jesse nodded again, his eyes moving away from the box to consider her for a moment. “It’s going to be hard to adjust to. You’ve always been this way, I can’t even imagine what you’d look like after it’s done.”

 

“Well, you’re not going to have to imagine for long,” Willow sighed. She sat up, pushing herself against the headboard and shoving her blankets down to her feet. Soon she was clear of her covers and she scrambled off her bed. Neither of them said one word as she picked up the box Agent Bradford had left her. Willow stared hard at it for a moment before she turned around and headed to the bathroom. Jesse had snapped out of his reverie and had the audacity to waggle his eyebrows at her as she passed him. Willow grunted and impulsively shoved him hard in the chest. He hadn’t been expecting that, and the blow knocked him off the bed and onto the floor. When he scrambled to his feet again, she was already in the bathroom and he could hear her laughter through the closed door.

 

“Very mature Willow.”

 

~*~

 

Anita felt that she had done an admirable job keeping her opinions, and shouts of recriminations, to herself during the entire time that she had been at the police station. Jean-Claude had also done a number, though not one she was in the mood to admire, to answer all the questions posed to him without ever giving anything away. And there was that smirk that seemed to be permanently stuck on his face. It screamed ‘I know something you don’t know!’ at everyone who dared to look above his chin. She couldn’t be certain if that he did so because he did know something, or if he was merely trying to agitate Dolph further. One thing she knew for sure was that it was irritating HER.

 

But she had managed to keep her feelings to herself until they had left the police station. Dolph had been unimpressed by anything Jean-Claude had to say, which wasn’t much. Other than the few odds claims of innocent intent that no one, not even Anita, bought, Dolph had no choice but to let him go. After all, there wasn’t yet a law in the USA that outlawed the sending of presents, especially harmless ones just as clothing.

 

Very tight and sexy clothing, she couldn’t help but notice.

 

And while feelings of mild jealousy were not something she was entirely new to, she didn’t quite know how she was supposed to deal with this. Jean-Claude sent presents to another woman. That alone was enough to make her want to physically harm him. But it wasn’t just any woman, it was Skye Storm, and that gave her pause.

 

In fact, she had been stuck in that pause for about an hour now. They had left the police station about fifteen minutes ago, and yet Anita hadn’t said one word. She had wordlessly followed Jean-Claude back to the town car he had waiting. She climbed into the backseat as silent as before. She knew that Jean-Claude was watching her the entire time, perhaps waiting for her to say something. Or yell. Yeah, he was probably waiting for her to yell. But she wasn’t going to yell. Not just yet. Right now, she was just contemplating everything she had just learned and trying to guess at what her boyfriend thought he had to gain from this.

 

Five minutes later, she was ready to start. “Skye Storm, huh?”

 

Three little words, and she managed to say them without a hint of anger. Okay, maybe there was a hint of anger, but she managed to convey enough of her curiosity that it could be easily overlooked. At least, that’s what she was telling herself.

 

Jean-Claude shifted in his seat, and she knew that he had turned to gaze at her. He was obviously trying to figure out her state-of-mind, and she could feel a slight push within the marks. She slowly, but firmly, pushed back, letting him know that this was not the time for that. He had better just give her some sort of answer before she lost her cool.

 

And he did. “She fell out of the sky.”

 

That was all he said. And oddly enough, it was more than enough. In those six concise words, he pretty much summed up his entire motive for this little stunt. Skye Storm was adequately named. She fell from the sky, moments after a horrendous , and bizarre, storm ripped through the night sky. No explanation, and none ever found. She could be anyone, or anything. And she landed in Jean-Claude’s territory, so that meant that the Master of the City was obligated to find out if this mysterious girl was a threat or not. But one thing didn’t make sense.

 

“Why send clothes?” she asked.

 

“I sent more than that,” he replied with a smirk. “I sent the petite fille several invitations, none of which I received replies for. And yet, the police seemed to have no idea that there were cards that accompanied those gifts. It makes me wonder what motivated Mademoiselle Storm to hide these things from the police, and for so long.”

 

Huh. “Huh.”

 

Jean-Claude sighed. “You still wish to berate me for this?”

 

“I’m giving it serious thought,” she admitted. “But for the moment, I’m more worried about how Skye responded to all this. The girl’s hiding more than those cards. And yet, I didn’t sense any power that day in the hospital. Nathaniel and Cherry both said they didn’t sense or smell anything odd about her. She just seems like any other twenty-something girl.”

 

“She is not an ordinary girl.”

 

“I know, but right now, that’s what she looks like.”

 

He fell silent after that. She sat back and looked out the window. She could see the lights of the Circus getting ever closer, and she knew that they would be there within minutes. This situation would be better left until they got inside. It would be infinitely better if she left it until they got inside.

 

“That black number? What the hell were you trying to prove?”

 

Maybe getting a little head-start on the yelling wouldn’t hurt.

 

~*~

 

Tammy showed up at about one-thirty with two other officers. Both of the officers were dressed in full uniform, complete with hats and sunglasses. One of those officers was a tall, portly man with thinning grey hair and solemn brown eyes. The other was a young woman of about twenty-six years of age, about five foot six, and long brunette hair that was done up in a ponytail. Long brunette hair that was the exact same colour as Willow’s hair was now.

 

That’s right, she had dyed her hair. She hadn’t wanted to, but her hand had been forced in the matter. Agent Bradford had insisted on it. He even went to all the trouble of getting her the right dye colour so that she could take care of it this morning. And after her late-morning shower, Willow Rosenburg was no longer a redhead. She was a brunette.

 

 

She had looked at her reflection for some time after the deed had been done. Jesse had looked with her, and they both agreed that she looked far too weird this way. Of course, that was probably because they just weren’t used to the change. Willow personally felt like she would never get used to it. She had spent her entire life as a redhead, and though she might have gone through several different hairstyles in that time, she had always remained a redhead. And now, she wasn’t.

 

“Okay there, Willow?” Tammy asked her cautiously. Willow managed a small smile for the detective, noting the sympathy and concern apparent in her eyes. Ah, only a woman could understand the bond between a girl and her hair. Jesse had tried to be understanding, but he just ended up cracking bad jokes as usual. He just couldn’t understand what this forced transformation was doing to her. It was her HAIR, for crying out loud.

 

Willow pushed that to the back of her mind and focused on the uniformed woman just behind Tammy. Willow didn’t know her name, but she did know that she wasn’t a St. Louis police officer. This woman was a FBI agent, and next to Willow, she was the most important person in this set-up. After all, she was going to be the faux-Willow.

 

“All right, here’s the break-down,” Tammy began, motioning for Willow to sit on her bed. “Agent Sylva is going into the bathroom to complete the change. Once she’s done, you’ll swap clothes. We’re due to move from this room at quarter to five. From here, we head straight outside to the elevator and down out through the front doors. Willow, make sure you stick close to me or Henry here. There are swarms of reporters outside, and we always get swamped when we show up. As soon as we leave those doors, keep your head down and a hand over the side of your face. You don’t say one word between there and when we get to the car. Once we’re in the car, Henry’s going to drive us back to the station, where Agent Bradford’s waiting. Then it’s time for phase two. You got it?”

 

Willow nodded, licking her lips nervously as she watched Agent Sylva head for the bathroom. In less than an hour, that woman would emerge as redheaded as Willow herself had been before. Tammy patted her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but Willow didn’t really feel it. Getting out of the hospital was one thing, and she was pretty sure this sneaky little trick would do the job. However, her main concern was for what was going to happen once she was out of here. She would be out THERE, and that wasn’t a place she really wanted to be. She was being pushed out into this huge, scary world and once she was out there, what was she going to do? How was she going to cope? How could she adjust? Vampire, werewolves, witches, and zombies roamed the earth, and apparently the shopping malls.

 

She’d be dead in a week.


	9. Chapter 8  The Old Switcharoo

Four-thirty came with such swiftness that it nearly took Willow’s breath away. She sat in the corner of her hospital room, fidgeting nervously in Agent Sylva’s clothes. Her newly dyed hair had been pulled back into a ponytail to mirror the hairstyle that the federal agent herself had started out with. Her eyes felt slightly dry and she had to force herself to stop from rubbing them continuously. The contacts that Tammy had given her weren’t that bothersome, but it felt weird to have something in her eyes. She just had to get used to it. The contacts were all apart of the larger disguise scheme, and actually completed the transformation by changing her green eyes into grey ones. Along with the police officer’s hat and sunglasses, no one would be able to recognize her. Hell, she didn’t even recognize herself. It was hard to believe that her entire appearance was changed so dramatically within a span of a few hours.

 

Jesse still hadn’t reappeared, and she was starting to get worried. Then she stopped herself. It’s not like anything bad could happen to him. He was already dead, and invisible to everyone but her. Besides, who would want to harm the spirit of a dead fifteen-year-old Californian boy? The bad guys of the world had much better things to do. Like stalk innocent young girls who had fallen out of the sky.

 

Willow dared a glance at Tammy and found the woman’s face was still rigid with anger. The source of Tammy’s irritation was none other than Jean-Claude, Master Vampire of the city of St. Louis, and all around bothersome French dead guy. Apparently he had ‘learned’ his lesson and decided to start sending her gifts through the normal channels. The officers downstairs had phoned about an hour ago to inform them that a large bouquet of red roses and a box of candies had arrived from the vampire. The gifts came with a note in which Jean-Claude apparently apologized for having caused her any grief and once again invited her to visit one of his many businesses. She guessed that meant that Jean-Claude hadn’t given up on the idea of meeting her, though she was glad that he didn’t make mention of the other notes he had sent. That would have led to more questions on Tammy’s behalf and opened up an entirely different can of worms, something they really needed to avoid for the next little while if they were going to pull this off.

 

Four thirty-five and Tammy was starting to get to her feet. Henry remained at his spot by her window, occasionally peeking outside at the melee there. Willow felt her heart sink as she thought of what, and who, was out there. The media had doubled their efforts in front of her hotel ever since it was announced that she was being moved. Several photographers had been caught trying to get past the obstructions and get her picture, but they had been stopped before they got too far. The FBI was doing everything in their power to make sure that no photo of her ever made it out there to the viewing public.

 

Four forty and Tammy was conversing in low tones with Agent Sylva. The newfound redhead was nodding her head and whispering some things back to Tammy, none of which Willow could make out. Of course it was hard to hear anything when your blood was roaring in your ears. Willow felt her breathing become irregular as the clock moved steadily forward. Where the hell was Jesse?

 

Four forty-five and it was show time. Tammy ended her conversation with Agent Sylva and both she and Henry moved to stand in front of Willow. Tammy gazed at her with concerned eyes. “You ready, Willow?”

 

No! “All ready.”

 

“Any last minutes questions?”

 

Can I please go home right now? “Not really. Should we go?”

 

“Yeah, we can go now,” Tammy paused and looked closely at Willow. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

 

Jesse! Jesse, come save me right now, mister! “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

“Okay, then let’s move.”

 

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God . . .

 

~*~

 

One could never really understand the term ‘media circus’ until they have been in the middle of one. It was one thing to see it on the television; it was quite another to try and move within it. Willow figured she had a good idea about the level of craziness that existed outside her hospital, but once she was out there she knew that she never had a good grasp on how bad it was. How the hell did the hospital manage to still function with all this craziness going on?

 

Willow watched the crowd of reporters, police officers, bystanders, and various special interest groups collided together in a giant swarm of lights, cameras, shouts, and general chaos. She stood about three feet behind Tammy and was waiting the go-ahead to head out. The other officers on the main floor hardly gave her a glance and she figured that was a good thing. Not even the security detail knew about this escapade, which really helped with the secrecy factor, even if it did make it riskier.

 

When Tammy started moving forward again, Willow was jerked out of her thoughts and forced back into the reality of the situation. She too began to move forward, not having to look to know that Henry was just off to her left side. The closer they got to the doors, the faster Willow’s heart rate became. Ten feet . . . Five feet . . . Two feet . . . And there! For the first time in over three years, Willow Rosenburg stepped outside into the world.

 

And immediately wished that she had never left her hospital room. The ruckus that had been going on outside intensified the second Tammy stepped outside the hospital doors. Immediately the crowd went nuts as the reporters tried to push their way closer towards the detective. Tammy held up one hand while using the other to shield her face, and in this manner she made her way past the crowd and towards her car. Willow was right behind her, right hand half shielding her face in the manner that Tammy had instructed her before. She kept her head down and her eyes on her feet as she muddled her way down the pathway barely cleared by the police. The crowd seemed unfazed by their pointed avoidance of their existence and pressed forward with questions and barely intelligible shrieks.

 

“Detective Reynolds! What is Skye’s condition today?”

 

“Has she remembered anything?”

 

“You can’t keep her locked up like this!”

 

“Why don’t you people understand that she is destined to be -”

 

“A goddess! She is a goddess sent to us-”

 

“From the depths of hell! She’s a witch! We all know it! Just burn her-”

 

“When is the planned removal of Miss Storm going to take place?”

 

“Why is the FBI now taking her into their custody?”

 

“She won’t be safe with them! She can only be safe with us! Why do you infidels insist on interfering in divine matters?”

 

“Who is she? The public has a right to know who she is! Who is she?”

 

The questions and the accusations kept coming, but Tammy never broke her stride. Willow did her best to keep up and stop herself from stumbling too much. It happened once or twice anyway, but she couldn’t really help it. She was so overwhelmed by all of this . . . This mess! Hadn’t these people anything better to do with their time than to be so focused on little, insignificant her?

 

You fell from the sky, she reminded herself, it’s not like they could just forget that. And she knew that they never would. She was Skye Storm, and would be long after she was dead. It would never, ever be something that she could escape, not even with this transformation placed upon her. She still had to be careful, still had to watch every word out of her mouth and heavily deliberate every action before she took it lest it reveal something about her that the authorities did not want others to know. Fame came with a price tag.

 

It seemed like she had been walking through that crowd forever. When they finally cleared the crowd, Willow felt a sigh of relief escape her lips. She shoulders sagged slightly, but she managed to pull herself together for the march to the patrol car. Tammy reached it first and immediately got into the passenger seat. Henry was pulling the keys out of his pocket as he headed for the driver’s side. Guess that meant she was riding in the back. Willow quelled the urge to run headfirst into the safety of the backseat and forced herself to approach the vehicle calmly. Her eyes traveled over the car briefly and she was reminded of what Jesse had told her. She had fallen on top of a patrol car the night she had arrived here. Apparently she had demolished the car. Pressing against the car door behind she opened the door, Willow felt the strength of the metals in the car. How had she managed to hit one of these things with enough force to destroy it and not end up dead herself? It just wasn’t possible that she could have ruined the car, but survived herself. The impact should have killed her, but it didn’t. What did it mean?

 

“If you just get in the car right now, I’ll promise to tell you later.”

 

Willow blinked and fought to look unsurprised as Jesse peered out at her from the other side of the backseat. Her dead friend just waggled his eyebrows at her. “Getting in?”

 

Willow shook herself and immediately slid into her seat, hoping that no one had noticed or thought anything too bizarre about her hesitation. A quick glance out her window showed that the crowd had apparently lost interest in them some time before. Their attention was back on the hospital doors and the officers that they could still see.

 

“Told you that you were uber-famous,” Jesse said as he nudged her slightly with his arm. She shot him a quick glance before turning her head forward and doing her best to act nonchalant. Jesse just sniggered, apparently very amused by her actions. “Aren’t we turning into quite the little actress?”

 

“Just about twenty minutes to the station,” Tammy informed her without turning to look at her. “And then we’ll meet up with St. Storr and Agent Bradford.”

 

“Ah yes, the reprehensible Brad Bradford,” Jesse said with a snort. “Honestly, the guy thinks he’s so slick. How slick can he be with that name? It just invites ridicule. Bet he’s got a lot of bully issues from his more youthful days.”

 

Her lips quivered for a second before Willow regained control of herself. She couldn’t tell him to shut up, or even glare at him adequately due to her companions, but she was able to snake out a hand and quickly pinch him without anyone noticing.

 

Jesse yelped and pulled his injured hand to his chest. “Overreact much?” he asked her in a wounded voice. She said nothing, though her lips tilted upwards in a sort-of smile. “Fine then, take pleasure in my pain. And here I am, to offer you support through this difficult ordeal . . . Okay, not so much offer support as to make inappropriate comments in the hope that you’ll laugh at all the wrong times. Have I told you how much wicked glee I derive from this exclusive thing you and I have?”

 

Gee, she hadn’t noticed.

 

~*~

 

The St. Louis Department didn’t look all that different from the one she remembered from Sunnydale. It was bigger, the landscaping was a bit different, but overall, it looked just like the police department from Willow’s hometown. She supposed the familiarity should have offered comfort, but not in this case. All this familiarity seemed to do was remind her that although there were similarities, it didn’t mean a damn thing because she wasn’t even in her own world anymore.

 

And it also didn’t help that the presence of so many police officers made her feel really nervous.

 

“You need to relax.”

 

And Jesse was being annoying.

 

“Not annoying. Helpful. A combination of the words ‘help’ and ‘full’ to convey my being full of help.”

 

He certainly was full of something.

 

“Naughty Willow. Now sit up straight and try not to have a breakdown in front of the feds. That sort of thing always looks suspicious.”

 

Willow dropped her head just a bit, her eyes still following Tammy ahead of her, but not raised enough for anyone in the room to get a good look at her face. The idea was to make it through this with the least amount of exposure-even in the police department.

 

Tammy led her through some halls, winding up in front of a door that had R.P.I.T. etched on the glass. Willow felt recognized the acronym as the name of Tammy’s department. The Regional Preternatural Investigation Team-the cops who dealt the monsters.

 

“And the ones who deal with little girls who fall out of the sky.”

 

And dealt with girls who fell out of the sky. She shot Jesse a quick glare before dropping her head again. Tammy walked on through the door and Willow trailed after her, trying not to be too annoyed when Jesse grabbed her hand and started skipping into the room. She knew that he wanted her to laugh, but this was not the best time for random outbursts of any kind. He knew that, she knew that he knew that, and she also knew that the severity of the situation was only encouraging him. If he weren’t already dead, Willow would be tempted to try to strangle him.

 

The room beyond the door was crowded and slightly chaotic. Willow tugged anxiously on her borrowed cap and kept her eyes pealed for anyone or anything that could prove to be a danger. It wasn’t that she expected the officers of Tammy’s squad to attack her or something, but given what kind of cases they dealt with, Willow figured that her chances of running into a vampire or a shifter of some sort was significantly increased just by being here. She didn’t know too much about the vampires in this world, only that they were very different from the ones in her home world. She couldn’t be sure that the second she crossed the path of one, the situation wouldn’t explode into disorder, violence, and death-most likely her own.

 

“Pessimist.”

 

“Willow, this way.”

 

Willow ignored Jesse and picked up her pace to catch up with Tammy. She passed a group of officers lounging by the coffee machine. About half of them held coffee mugs with penguins on them. Willow frowned and cast a gaze around the main room. Here and there, she saw more penguins. On coffee mugs, in the form of stuffed animals, dangling from key chains, and encased in one very large snow globe on a single desk. Willow looked at Jesse and arched an eyebrow.

 

Jesse only shrugged. “Even I don’t understand that.”

 

Willow shook her head and hastened after Tammy when the woman veered to the left and headed down a hallway. About halfway down, Tammy stopped by a door. When Willow was next to her, Tammy pushed open the door and ushered the younger woman into the room. It was an interview room and Willow wasn’t all that surprised to find Agent Bradford waiting for her.

 

“Hey, it’s Bradley! Hey Bradley! How’s it going Bradley? Another day well spent polishing the old gun, I see. And you‘ve even had time for your handgun-that’s impressive.”

 

She couldn’t hit him, so there wasn’t much she could do to make him stop. She figured she could give ignoring him another go, but she didn’t have much hope for that tactic working either. So she slid into the chair Tammy indicated, her face appropriately curious and nervous while she ignored the dead teenage boy pulling faces at Agent Bradford.

 

The special agent flashed her a big, empty grin. “I take it things went well?”

 

She nodded, but said nothing. Jesse was saying enough for the both of them. He was looking at Agent Bradford with some disgust on his face. “Aren’t these guys supposed to be smooth?” Jesse asked unhappily. “This guy is so not smooth.”

 

“Well, that’s good,” Agent Bradford continued. “I guess there’s no point in wasting time with small talk. Let’s get down to it, shall we?”

 

Willow could only nod her head.

 

“You’ll be spending the night in the station. St. Storr will see that you are comfortably set up for the night while Detective Reynolds goes home. In the morning, you will be given a change of clothes. We’ll have you disguised as a federal agent, and two of my team members will escort you to the airport. Once you clear the public terminal, you’ll be taken to a private room. There’ll be another change of clothes for you there, along with all the important pieces of ID and papers that you’ll need. Once you’re done there, you won’t be directly accompanied by anyone anymore. You’ll appear to be alone, but don’t worry; we will have a group of agents watching you to ensure your safety and to vacate you should the plan somehow go astray.”

 

“And shoot you if you try to make a run for it,” Jesse muttered darkly. “Of course, that’s to be expected. You’re a highly volatile, active case, you know. Can’t have you running around all on your lonesome.”

 

Willow struggled to contain the brief flash of fear she felt at Jesse’s revelations, but then calmed herself. She hadn’t really been expecting anything different. She knew that she was on shaky ground with everyone, especially the US government.

 

And throughout this, Agent Bradford continued to talk. “After you leave that room, all you have to do is make for the arrivals terminal. The papers we’ve given you will get you through Customs without incidence. And after that, all you have to do is meet up with Detective Reynolds. You know the rest, I’m sure.”

 

Willow nodded and licked her very dry lips. Agent Bradford was smiling in what he must have thought was a reassuring manner while Jesse had gone back to making faces at the back of his head. Tammy also tried to give her a reassuring expression, but it was failing fast. Willow understood how she felt. It was a good plan; but they couldn’t be sure that it was going to work. Something might go wrong, and then they would have to start all over again. But barring any huge security leaks to the media, there should be nothing standing between Willow and the success of Agent Bradford’s plan. ‘Should be’ being the operative word there. It could still go to hell in a hand basket.

 

They’d find out tomorrow.


	10. Chapter 9  Works In Theory . . .

“I hate you.”

 

Larry laughed into his cell phone. He could practically see Anita on the other end, sitting in her office, glaring at the paperwork she hadn’t touched since last Thursday. Normally having Anita in the office at such an early hour was damn near impossible. Girl had to sleep sometime, and considering her lifestyle, that time usually extended right into the afternoon hours. But circumstances had occurred which required Larry to be elsewhere with his girlfriend, which prompted him to fill in for Anita’s later appointments last night if she was present at the office in the morning. Larry suspected that she only agreed because he had asked her at about four-thirty a.m. about two days ago and she had just raised three corpses. Of course, he had only asked her then because he knew that was the best chance at getting her to agree. A little evil on his part, but he felt it was reasonable given the circumstances.

 

“Seriously, I’m giving thought to shooting you in the leg next time I see you.”

 

“Come off it Anita,” he scoffed. “If you did that, who would be your plucky little sidekick?”

 

There was silence as Anita gave his question some thought. “Well, Nathaniel has been showing some progress in that area,” she said in what might have been considered a threatening tone. “And he’s superhuman, so he’s got you beat.”

 

“Hey, I’m a little superhuman,” Larry protested. “I can’t bench-press a sedan, but I can raise zombies. That’s got to count for something.”

 

“Not right now it doesn’t.”

 

“I told you not to leave it all to the last second-”

 

“You know, considering that I’m doing you a favour, right now is not the time to be lecturing me about my paperwork habits,” Anita snapped. Larry bit back another laugh and waited for her to finish. “By the way, why the hell did I agree to this in the first place?”

 

“Because I am very near and dear to your heart?”

 

Anita snorted in a very unladylike manner.

 

“Because Tammy is really near and dear to your heart?”

 

Another snort.

 

“Because I asked you when you were really tired and therefore didn’t have time to think things through properly? And I kind of laid a bit of a guilt trip on considering what happened with Tammy?”

 

“Oh yeah, now I remember,” Anita’s voice was sounding a little bit less annoyed. “How is she, considering?”

 

“Well, if the feds decided to throw you off a case that you had made near and dear to your heart, spent endless hours working on, and went through many sleepless nights worrying about it, how would you feel? Wait don’t answer that. I know how you would react.”

 

“And how would I react?”

 

“You’d shoot someone,” he said flatly.

 

There was an indignant gasp on the other end of the line. “I would not.”

 

“You would threaten to do it,” he insisted. “Or at the very least, you would think about it.”

 

“Why is it that everyone assumes that I’m just going to use my guns to solve my problems?”

 

“Have you seen your track record?”

 

“I’ve never shot a fed,” Anita defended herself… “And can we get back to the topic here? How is Tammy?”

 

“Surprisingly okay, when I don’t catch her making faces at the mirror while she mimics federal agents,” Larry replied easily enough. “Honestly, I’m just glad that this happened when it did. It’s done a lot to take her mind off the whole-Skye thing. Well, distract her from it as much as possible.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Anita muttered darkly. “Turn on the TV, there’s something about Skye on there. Turn on the radio, same thing. Newspapers, Internet-hell, I can’t buy a cup of coffee without hearing at least three sentences about Skye Storm.”

 

“She’s the hot topic of the . . . Ever,” Larry finished with a chuckle. “Wonder what the mayor’s going to do to boost tourism once she’s gone?”

 

“Can’t figure this out,” Anita murmured. “I know Agent Bradford, and this isn’t his style. He would have moved her and then told people about it. Why announce it? It’s just inviting an assassination attempt.”

 

“Well, he didn’t give a place and date,” Larry shrugged. “They just said it would happen after the week’s end. That could mean Monday, or December. Besides, assassination attempt? Isn’t that going a little overboard?”

 

“Not if you pay attention to what HAV’s been saying about her,” Anita said angrily. “Check their website. They’ve got this whole thing in here about how she must be an agent of evil, or something. I lost track of their reasoning after the third paragraph, but I can still tell that they’re not part of the Skye Storm fan club.”

 

“That club’s filled to capacity,” Larry added. “Tammy’s still bitter about her last run-in with the DU last week. I just don’t understand why they have to do everything naked.”

 

“Because that guarantees that they’ll be on the front page, while the other crazy groups will be on page five or something,” Anita answered sarcastically. “Even so, I think I might actually miss DU antics. They were always the little bit of the nightly news that brightened my day.”

 

“And you don’t have to pay a cover charge like at the Guilty Pleasures,” Larry quipped lightly.

 

“Larry.”

 

“Anita.”

 

“Don’t you have something you have to be doing?” she asked snidely.

 

“Yeah, I suppose I should get down to it,” Larry replied, casting a look around him to

catch a glimpse of his girlfriend. “I better go find Tammy. I’ll talk to you later Anita.”

 

“Remember, you owe me for this,” Anita said in way of farewell.

 

“Put it on the tab,” Larry laughed, and then quickly disconnected before Anita could respond. Still chuckling, Larry jammed his phone into his coat pocket and headed off in a random direction in hopes of finding his girlfriend.

 

~*~

 

“This is very important. You must wear it at all times.”

 

Willow nodded and hurriedly put it on. Once she finished, she looked around the private airport room the feds had managed to secure for her latest costume chain. Her hands strayed on the necklace she had just put on and something occurred to her. “What is it?” she asked suddenly.

 

“Asides from an accessorizing Godsend?” Jesse cried from beside her. Willow ignored him. She was doing a lot more of that than usual. Maybe if he shut up once in a while when she had real people to deal with . . .

 

“I’m real,” he protested in a slightly wounded voice.

 

“It’s a glamour device,” Agent Harker began to explain. “Glamour is a type of magic witches employ to change their appearance. We’ve already done a lot to change your appearance, but short of plastic surgery, we can’t really make you into someone completely new. This charm works to make your features seem slightly different from what they are now. We gave it to you on the odd chance that you run into someone who’s seen you before and could see past the superficial changes we’ve made.”

 

“Translation: so if one of the nurses sees you, she can’t go blab to National Inquirer,” Jesse snorted, resting his chin on her shoulder and looking at her chest with a little too much interest. “At least it looks nice. Of course, the backdrop it’s against really adds to the overall effect.”

 

Was there anyway she could get him to stop ogling her breasts without piquing Agent Harker’s suspicions?

 

“Nope.”

 

Darn it.

 

“Come on Willow, that was weak. Use real swear words.”

 

Damn it?

 

Jesse heaved a great sigh. “I have so much to teach you, little grasshopper.”

 

Agent Harker was still going on strong. “And this watch you also have to keep on whenever you leave the house,” the older woman handed over a fairly normal looking digital wrist watch. She indicated the uppermost right button, labelled ‘start/stop’. “If you ever find yourself in a situation where you think your cover is blown, or if you think yourself to be in danger without any help coming, press this button. Two federal agents will meet you at your location and assist you.”

 

“How are they going to know my location?” Willow asked as she took the watch carefully.

 

“Because of this,” Agent Harker handed over what looked like a leather ankle bracelet. “There’s a tracking device in the gem here. Another thing that you must wear whenever you leave the house. Once you’re out the doors, the device will activate automatically. We won’t be able to follow you everywhere. It would be a large drain on resources, and not to mention it’s bound to clue someone into who you are. But with these two devices, we’re doing our best to make sure that we are there when you need us to be.”

 

“So, you’re not under direct supervision, but Big Brother’s still got two eyeballs glued as closely to your ass as they can get without being obvious,” Jesse tapped her new watch experimentally. “Don’t suppose it would be funny if I pressed this now? Just to see what would happen?”

 

She didn’t dignify that with a response.

 

“Now here is your wallet, complete with all your ID,” Agent Harker started to explain again, still passing enormous amounts of stuff her way. “That has your driver’s licence, birth certificate, medical insurance card, social security card, and two credit cards.”

 

Willow frowned. “Credit cards?”

 

“The FBI is still receiving donations for your cause,” Agent Harker explained briskly. “Whatever funds people would not take back, we have put into a bank account for you. It figures roughly at seventeen-thousand dollars.”

 

“What?”

 

Jesse said nothing, but was humming something that sounded suspiciously like “I’m in the money . . .”

 

“Seventeen thousand dollars,” Agent Harker repeated, a slightly smile on her face. “We’ve been collecting these donations since you arrived. People are still very much interested in your case. And the tax write off helps.”

 

“Right,” Willow eyed the two cards in her new wallet with some apprehension. “I don’t think I feel right about taking this money . . .”

 

“As I said, that’s only the money we couldn’t give back,” Agent Harker told her firmly. “That means mostly anonymous donations and whatnot. We’ve decided to hand it over to you because you’re going to need it. You have no income to speak of, and probably won’t be able to get a substantial one for some time. Now, onto other business. Also in there is a course schedule for the fall semester at Washington University. We got you into most of the classes you wanted. The only one we couldn’t get was replaced with a history course. Now, you’re also signed up for an orientation meeting on Tuesday next week, and you’re responsible for getting the rest of your supplies. That includes textbooks, notebooks, pens-you get the idea.”

 

Willow nodded, fighting the urge to whip out the class schedule and pour over it now. Agent Harker was now indicating the luggage in the corner of the room. “These are your clothes. Most are new; some are gifts that you have already received.”

 

Willow felt her heart pick up at that. There was no mistaking the tone of the other woman’s voice. Her eyes fell on the luggage and she made a face. Agent Harker smiled again, but said nothing.

 

“Well, at least Monsieur Deadboy has good taste,” Jesse said with a shrug.

 

“And I do believe that’s it for now,” Agent Harker gave her a serious look. “You ready?”

 

Did she have any choice? “Yeah, I’m ready.”

 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire . . .” Jesse chanted from behind her. “Good thing that I’m here to help you, right?”

 

Right. How could she forget?

 

~*~

 

“Tammy . . .”

 

“She’s just a little late. Happens all the time.”

 

“Tammy . . .”

 

“I’m sure that she’s just waiting for her luggage. I mean, that always takes forever, right?”

 

“Tammy . . .”

 

“Or she’s with Customs. Those guys always hold you up for an extra ten minutes.”

 

“Tammy . . .”

 

“God! Where is she? She’s what? Twenty minutes late? What if something happened to her?”

 

“It didn’t.”

 

“How do you know?” Tammy spun on her heel and glared at her boyfriend.

 

Larry just shook his head at her. “Because she’s over there. Been there for the past five minutes.”

 

Tammy paled and glanced behind her. She too spotted the slim brunette standing uncertainly just beyond the arrival gates. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Tammy hissed at him.

 

“I’ve been trying,” Larry said with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve been very busy to pay me any attention.”

 

Tammy gave him a warning look, but he just grinned broadly at her. Tammy had been acting much frazzled for the past few weeks, the condition getting worse when she heard about her cousin’s impending arrival. It was a tad uncharacteristic, but Larry had come to find it to be very cute. So he just smiled, even when she scowled at him and turned on her heel to rush towards her cousin. He followed at a much slower pace, his smile getting bigger as he watched Tammy throw her arms around her cousin in greeting.

 

“Willow!”


	11. Chapter 10  The Little Things

Willow looked around the room that Tammy had proclaimed as hers. It was pretty bare, a bed in the centre, a desk in the right corner, closet to the left and a dresser just off to the side of the door. Willow figured that it had been left bare on purpose, so that she could do with it what she willed. After all, she was now officially living with her "cousin" Tammy and had been given her own space like any true family member would have been. Then it was up to her to decorate it, to fill it with things that were representative of her own personality and viewpoint on life.

 

Unfortunately, the only way for Willow to accurately represent those things would be to scribble "My life sucks" all over the walls. And while Tammy might get it, her boyfriend Larry might be a bit weirded out by it. So the question remained: how should she, in her capacity as an out-of-town college-bound girl, decorate this room without letting it show that she was none of those things?

 

"Drama queen much? Just stick some posters and stuffed animals around the room and it'll be fine."

 

Willow sighed and gave Jesse a look. She didn't have any of those things. The only thing she had was one digitally manipulated photo of her and her "family" from back home, which was Denver apparently.

 

Jesse rolled his eyes at her. "Go buy those things. You do have two very substantially loaded credit cards."

 

Willow grimaced as she thought of the credit cards in question. She still wasn't feeling that great about using that money, and if she could figure out a way to send it back to whoever sent it, she would happily do so. But as the feds told her, all donations kept were anonymous donations, so she didn't have a chance in hell of finding out who sent her this money. She could resolve not to use it, but she was kind of without any sort of financial footing whatsoever, so she was going to need money at some point. But the idea of wasting it on such useless things as posters and stuffed animals-

 

"They are not useless," Jesse interjected. "They're helpful because they're going to help solidify this image of yours. You are, at some point, going to have to act like you belong here. That means using the money."

 

But she didn't want to use the money for stuff like this.

 

"Then what are you going to use it on?"

 

Books, school supplies, food, clothing-the necessities only.

 

"Yeah, because all college students only thrive on the necessities only. You're going to have to drop some money on stupid things Willow. Otherwise, how will anyone be convinced that you're just an average college girl?"

 

Fine, she'll get a job and work for money to spend on useless things-

 

"But that takes time and you need useless things now," Jesse reminded her as he stepped further in the room and threw himself down on her bed. Willow watched as the bed shook and jiggled under his frame, knowing in the back of her mind that it shouldn't be doing that because Jesse wasn't real-

 

"Am so real!"

 

Then why was he invisible to everyone else?

 

"Because no one else needs to see me!" Jesse gave her a "duh!" look. "I'm here for you, Willow baby, and only for you. And I'm not one of those loose-moral kind of spirits. I'm exclusive girl, and loyal to a fault."

 

And still not convincing her that he was, in fact, real.

 

"We're not having this argument now."

 

Later then?

 

"You've gotten steadily snarkier ever since we left the hospital. Feeling the pressures of performing your role? Can't see yourself pulling off the whole college-girl thing? Well, that's just stupid then. It's not like its hard or anything. Go to school, write some notes, read some books, drink some booze, and have a breakdown during midterms. Just like high school, only it's not free.”

 

She knew that he was trying to be helpful, maybe even trying to cheer her up. It was just too bad that he sucked at it. Besides, none of this was convincing her to blow all that donated money on posters and junk. She was going to need it, to finance her new project.

 

Jesse frowned at her. “What project?”

 

What, he didn’t know? Wasn’t he supposed to know exactly what she was thinking all the time?

 

“Willow, stop stalling. What project?”

 

The former redhead dropped her eyes to her feet. “I’m going home,” she said in a soft whisper.

 

Silence followed after that. She cautiously raised her eyes, only to find Jesse staring at her in a dumbfounded way. “Willow, you are home.”

 

She felt a flash of anger at that. “I am not!” she hissed at him. “I am not home! Sunnydale doesn’t even exist here. I checked. And don’t even try to convince me otherwise. There is no way in hell that you can make me believe that I belong here. This world is way too weird, and way too dangerous. I’m going home.”

 

Jesse gave her a sad look. “Um, is this going to be the point where you’re so delusional and full of hope that I have to crush your spirit completely just by stating the truth?”

 

Willow swallowed the lump in her throat. “You could help.”

 

“That’s what I’m afraid to do,” Jesse muttered, scratching his head while he did his best to avoid looking at her. “Willow, this whole you going back to the other place, well, that isn’t going to work so much.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well, many reasons, first being that you’re technically already there,” Jesse shrugged weakly. “Remember the explanation thing I gave you when you were about to wake up? Well, I wasn’t making it up. You’re here and there, same girl but different parts.”

 

“Then I’ll go back and be a girl with all her parts,” Willow insisted stubbornly.

 

“Doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it just doesn’t!” Jesse snapped as he gave her an annoyed look. “Listen, I know this isn’t easy for you, but you can’t pretend that you’re going to be able to wave your hand and make it all okay again. You tampered with magic when you shouldn’t have, and now it’s time to deal with what you’ve done. And that means sitting tight and trying to make it in the world that you were so graciously placed in.”

 

“Graciously?” Willow repeated, her own irritation starting to build. “I was chucked out of the sky and thrown onto a cop car so hard that I totalled it. You call that gracious?”

 

“I call it gracious that you’re anywhere at all,” Jesse retorted sharply. “Nobody had to interfere Willow. You could have spent eternity in limbo, but someone took pity on you. This life, this world, messed up as it is, is a gift. And you couldn’t leave it if you tried.”

 

Willow knew this would be a good time for her to shut up and give up her plans for inter-dimensional travel, but she was feeling kind of surly about the reality that Jesse was imposing on her. “You sure about that?”

 

“Positive. After all, you can’t do magic anymore.”

 

“I can’t what!”

 

“Willow?”

 

Shit! Willow spun around and fixed slightly hysterical eyes on her closed bedroom door. There were footsteps outside, and the voice calling her name was not Tammy’s. Great, Larry had heard her. But how much did he hear?

 

“What are you waiting for?” Jesse asked, his voice sounding as hysterical as she felt. “Answer him before he thinks something’s going on!”

 

Something was going on, but she stifled the urge to shout that at her dead friend. Larry hearing her shouting in an empty room was not going to help matters in the least. “Um, yeah Larry?”

 

“Everything okay?” He sounded like he was just outside her door.

 

“Uh, yeah, just realizing that I did a less than stellar job with my packing,” Willow lied as she opened the door. Tammy’s very cute and very redheaded boyfriend stood in the hallway with concern showing on his face. Willow swallowed the wistful sigh she felt building at the sight of that red hair and focused her attention on convincing Larry that she wasn’t completely insane. She gave the man a small smile. “I didn’t think I would need all that stuff when I was packing, but now I kind of miss it.”

 

A knowing look came over his face. “Well, if you really need something, I can take you to go pick it up later. Tammy won’t be back until late, so I figured on taking you out for something to eat and spare you my Macaroni Surprise. Well, I guess that technically I would be saving you from finding out that the ‘Surprise’ part is just the burnt pasta that I scrape off the bottom of the pan.”

 

Willow made a face and then giggled. Larry gave her a cheeky sort of grin and then motioned to the stairs with his head. “I know you’ve still got unpacking to do, but I say if it can be left for later, then there’s no point in doing it now.”

 

“Fine theory for establishing a good work ethic,” Willow said with a chuckle. “But we don’t have to go shopping for stuff right away. It’s not things that I can’t live without, just little things like posters, books, and other girlie things to fill the room with.”

 

“But those are often the most important things,” Larry protested, his grin never wavering for a second. “Hey, got a brilliant idea! I’ll take you to the campus! We’ll hit the gift shops and buy you all the Washington U crap that you won’t ever really need later on in life. And then I’ll take you to the Lunatic Café.”

 

Willow frowned. “Lunatic Café? Is this somewhere that Tammy would want me to go?”

 

“It’s a perfectly safe and friendly university spot that you would have stumbled upon on your own at some point,” Larry assured her. “Besides, it’s got good food and is always crowded with some university kids. It’s the perfect place to take you.”

 

Willow gave Larry a look. “Been giving this some thought?”

 

The man blushed. “Well, it’s your first night here and it already kind of sucks because Tammy had to go into work, and I didn’t want to make it any suckier by taking you to a drive-thru for dinner. Just seems wrong.”

 

“And would be boring,” Jesse added, jumping up from her bed and bouncing over to her side. He rested his chin on her shoulder and gave her the puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

 

Willow did her best not to look at him, not because she would cave (which she wouldn’t) but because Larry was there and letting him see her staring at nothing would probably make him a wee bit curious. “Well, a drive-thru does seem kind of lame . . .”

 

“And you’ll love the Café,” Larry promised her. “So it’s settled. You get ready and I’ll wait downstairs for you. We’ll hit some shops, get you all the little things you want, and then food.”

 

“Sounds good,” Willow smiled thankfully at Larry. The man headed down the stairs while she turned back to her room. Jesse was waiting behind her, practically bouncing with excitement. She arched an eyebrow at his antics. “Okay, what’s the deal with you? It’s not even like you can eat anything there. Food disappearing into thin air is going to catch someone’s attention.”

 

“Not that,” Jesse replied, rushing at her bags and pulling out clothes at random. Willow had to react fast to catch the jeans and stretchy green blouse that he threw at her head. “It’s just this Lunatic Café place is going to be fun.”

 

“Okay, first the name was mildly weird, but now that you’re excited about it, I’m definitely concerned. Exactly what is this place?”

 

“It’s just a café-”

 

“Jesse-”

 

“That might be filled with werewolves,” Jesse finished lamely.

 

Willow felt her eyes widen. “Did you just say-”

 

“Werewolves? Yeah, I did. The Lunatic Café usually has a few around. It’s owned by the Ulfric.”

 

Huh?

 

“That’s like the werewolf king,” Jesse explained. He stopped rifling through her bags and gave her a look. “Well? Are you going to get changed? Larry’s waiting for us.”

 

Willow shook herself and fixed him with a glare. “Actually, he’s waiting for me. And I’m not too sure-”

 

“Please Willow?” Jesse bawled suddenly. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

 

“Last time you promised that, my psychic had a meltdown.”

 

“But I mean it this time!”

 

“Quit it. You’re just trying to distract me from asking about the magic thing-”

 

“Not much to say about that,” Jesse said firmly. “You can’t do magic here. Not only because the authorities would find out and you would be in heaps of trouble because black magic is often very illegal here, but also because you can’t. You’re not the part of yourself that’s a witch.”

 

She felt like screaming, but managed to swallow it. “Then what part of myself am I?” she demanded in a testy tone.

 

At that, he smiled. “You’re the part that’s mine. Now get dressed. Larry is waiting!”

 

Willow rolled her eyes, but knew she was defeated. “Okay, go downstairs and wait.”

 

“What-”

 

Willow smirked at her dead friend. “Jesse, I may still be adjusting to this new world, but I’m not befuddled enough to get naked in front of you. Now go.”

 

Jesse pouted, but obediently made his way downstairs. Willow watched him go before surveying the mess he had just made. She wrinkled her nose at the chaos and then sighed. She hoped the FBI remembered to buy her make-up.

 

Now, how does one accessorize for a werewolf café?

 

~*~

 

“Report?”

 

Tammy fought the urge to roll her eyes and forced herself to focus on the man before her. Agent Bradford looked mighty comfortable sitting in St. Storr‘s office. One might forget that it wasn‘t his to begin with. “She’s fine, as far as I can tell. She’s doing an admirable job of playing her role. So far, Larry remains utterly convinced that she is my cousin Willow.”

 

“Let’s hope that it stays that way,” Agent Bradford mumbled, eyes on the papers that he kept shuffling around on the desk. “What is your impression? How is she now that she’s out in the world?”

 

Tammy raised her hands, palms up, to signify her ignorance. “She seems okay. A little unsure about what’s around her, but nothing too different from how I’ve known her to act in the hospital. She’s still the same girl, only she’s got different concerns. But she’s still held onto one from before. We passed an ad for the Circus on the way back from the airport. She looked nervous when she saw it, but she managed to cover it quickly.”

 

Agent Bradford looked up from the desktop. “She’s frightened of Jean-Claude or of vampires in question?”

 

“I didn’t stop to ask,” Tammy practically growled. “But it’s my impression that any mention of vampires tend to make her very nervous.”

 

Agent Bradford pursed his lips. “That’s interesting.”

 

Tammy said nothing, but did stare him down. Agent Bradford flashed a wide, empty smile. “That’s all for now, Detective Reynolds. Have a pleasant night.”

 

Tammy bit back a snide reply, only nodding at the agent before heading out. She had to take a few deep breaths to maintain her cool. Agent Bradford was starting to get on her last nerve. In her opinion, this whole move thing was a gamble they didn’t need to take. Hiding Willow in St. Louis was a stupid idea, and raised opportunities for discovery that could easily be avoided by moving her out of the state.

 

But no, they kept her here. It was like she was some sort of experiment for the feds. They had her wired up like no one’s business, and Tammy was required to make daily reports on her behaviour. Maybe they suspected Willow of something, but if that was the case, Tammy couldn’t be sure what it was that they suspected her of. But it sure felt like they were hiding something from her, from all of them. Tammy just didn’t know what it was.

 

But she was damn sure going to find out.


End file.
